


Break for Air

by TheLongRoadHome



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: A Lot of Plot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attraction, Avoiding life, Bittersweet, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Cheeky, Dancing, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Falling In Love, Gerudo Town, Getting to Know Each Other, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hot Mess, Hurt Link, I'm Bad At Tagging, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, It's Hard and Nobody Understands, Kingdom of Hyrule, Loneliness, Long, M/M, Made For Each Other, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mipha's Grace (Legend of Zelda), Mistaken Identity, Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn in Later Chapters, Protective Prince Sidon, Responsibility, Sad and Happy, Saving Each Other, Saving Hyrule, Scars, Sexy Times, Sign Language, Slow Build, Swolesome, Wholesome, Yiga gtfo, Zora's Domain, dumbassery, mostly towards Yiga, plz enjoy, yeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 73,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27675758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLongRoadHome/pseuds/TheLongRoadHome
Summary: 'Blood whirled, thumping through weak eyelids, light and white and red, swimming into focus, and Link coughed weakly. The face above him floated, blurry and strange, wreathed in sunshine and water droplets, fiercely set in shadowed crimson and silver. Sharp teeth and sharper eyes.'Link wants nothing to do with Calamity Ganon until a strange creature finds him on the riverbank, and an unlikely relationship is formed. When the rest of Link's life feels like he's drowning, this Red River Ghost is a break for air.
Relationships: Link & Prince Sidon, Link/Prince Sidon
Comments: 314
Kudos: 505





	1. By Chance

**Author's Note:**

> This whole story is already completed so technically I shouldn't be able to duck out of posting more chapters :.D Please do bother me if you want to read more. It will get explicit later on but I've arranged that part so it's skippable if that's not your thing. 
> 
> The story is set during the game - I'm doing some parts in the chapters where I'm lifting a lot of game speech verbatim, but completely changing the context which it's said in. Please don't mind meeeeee up in here stealin' feels. I hope you enjoy!

_“Always getting yourself hurt at every turn…”_

Blood whirled, thumping through weak eyelids, light and white and red, swimming into focus, and Link coughed weakly. 

The face above him floated, blurry and strange, wreathed in sunshine and water droplets, fiercely set in shadowed crimson and silver. Sharp teeth and sharper eyes. A close, warm silhouette against the glare of the sky. Eyes laced with condern and liquid gold. The breeze breathed lovingly over Link’s face as his lungs gurgled with water, his body feeling fuzzy and languid.

The river rolled by, the grass danced to the rhythm of the wind, and his horse whinnied as she cantered towards them, hooves sounding like an earthquake to his aching head. The creature that leant over him did not bite, or raise it’s hand to strike. Link winced with the effort of staying awake.

Touches lingered on his face as the hoofbeats rumbled closer. 

Link could only squint through blurred tears and watch the red figure move, the full gaze of the sun stinging his eyes in place of its shadow. 

He felt his horse snuffle at his hair. The breeze turned chill, and Link let the curtain of his exhausted eyelids descend. 

* * *

As he gestured to the river, the boy shook his head harder. “No! The Demon will get us! NoNo NO!!!” 

Somehow, after Link had saved the child from that guardian - whose last mechanical throes had sent Link brokenly on his way down the river too - the kid had gotten back to the Stable. Four _perilous_ miles downriver, faster than Epona could run, or the river could flow. Link was sure the child had died in the rescue attempt and subsequent fight Link had with the Guardian. He was sure he had died when he’d been thrown into the river too. 

When Link awoke, groggy and hurting on the bank with Epona snuffling his face, he had urged her down the dusty road and waited in hot shameful anger for the little body to wash up downstream. When he’d reached the stable, ready to accept all vitriol for being unable to save the boy, nor retrieve a body, the child was not only blissfully alive - he was now afraid to go near the water, terrified of the creature that had carried him back home. Luckily he hadn’t told anyone of Link’s vanquishing of the Guardian. In fact, the little one seemed too preoccupied by fear to even remember.

As for this Red “Demon?” Link wasn’t so sure. Someone had pulled him out of the river. He remembered a vaguely human shape. In his half-unconcious state he had thought it to be a Bokoblin, chased off by Epona, but Bokoblins could not survive water and certainly couldn't swim, and the creature had thrown itself into the lake with abandon. Were Bokoblins suicidal these days? It would certainly make his job easier. 

But he remembered red...? A hylian? A hat? Another sort of monster? Gold eyes...Though he couldn’t shake the feeling that there had been something _different_ about the stranger’s face…Malice, in human form, perhaps?

The child went back to his father and the stablehands, who all fussed him and welcomed him as he howled and threw his small arms around every leg and neck offered, studiously excluding Link.

Link grimaced, unable to swallow the bitter bile of failure. He had been lucky this time. 

He did not look back as he left the stable behind him, and angrily urged Epona until they were going fast enough to outrun his frustration. 

* * *

The days passed and shame slipped to the back of his mind, as odd things had begun happening on the road that he could not outrun. Link had killed a gang of Silver Bokoblins who had interrupted his mediocre lunch, and come back to his campfire to find his fish garnished with a set of herbs that looked remarkably like seaweed, but tasted so divine he’d eaten five of them in one sitting. In retrospect, they could have been poisoned, but Link found himself so mouth-wateringly hungry that he didn’t really care, only thinking ill of it all later.

Then, he’d gone to Hateno. He’d heard something splutter nearby, and couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Then one of the local kids had talked about blood washing down the river. When Link looked to reassure them, he not only saw the patch of shadowy red, but swore that the blood stopped in the murk right in front of him, and _stared,_ a quell of water drenching all present immediately afterward, and the crimson shadow disappearing completely _._ Link had blanched and scarfed down his meal before evacuating the cooking pot, shooing the children and urging Epona down the road so fast that his gums ached from the force of the headwind. _Bloody hell, The Calamity can fucking swim now!_ His mind screamed. 

The third time, his bedroll had been laid out for him under a tree, covers neatly tucked and folded - it had been several feet away and still in it’s travel ties when he’d left it to go hunt. He promptly burnt it where it sat and found a new campsite several fields from the location, sleeping up in a tree with a few traps scattered about, just to be safe. No way in frozen Hylia was he going to fall for that bullshit. 

Fourthly, weapons seemed to be in much higher abundance - good ones - left in obvious places clearly meant for him. Silver swords left next to his horse or his sleeping place, which Link had never seen before but were often decorated with shells or fish tokens. He grimaced as his mind went back to the “Demon” that the stable child described. Either he had a gloating spy, or he was being haunted, dared to fight. Both options filled him with dread. He didn’t need any Gods-damned stalkers, especially not ones made of Malice. 

The hauntings were irregular and always unexpected. He had been loath to go into any riverside houses for fear of being seen or trapped in a space he couldn’t escape from. 

The happenings seemed to stop for a short while, and Link, however briefly, let them fall to the back of his mind, as he traded his hunts at the stables, and bugs with the travelling Merchant. 

In the closing moments of a day spent trekking around the edge of lake Hylia, he was struck by a view that brought about such a great pang of nostalgia that he couldn’t breathe. 

The memory seared across the cavity in his head like a knife wound. The squat statues sheltered the Princess Zelda from driving rain. Her delicate features and golden hair made her look every bit like a Goddess. And though it was the first time he had recalled her face in 100 years, she sat correct and poised in his memory like a painting waiting under a veil, revealed all at once and with meaning. She had looked as lonely in the memory as Link felt now, saddled with a quest that neither of them had hope of completing. Her words were soft and mournful, his arms ached with the weight of a sword that he wished he didn't recognise. When his mind had been run through with the recollection, numbness permeated his bones, like he was suspended in the hollow vault of the night. He was unbearably alone - a feeling which he was both used to and hated, so much so that he longed for the Demon in the river, or anybody at all. 

That he should miss a threatening presence was ironic at best.

Nighttime lay thick over the hills before he could breathe normally again. His mind had been exploding with headache, temples so hot he couldn’t hold his hands against them. Lake Hylia had been a cooling, forgiving pressure to dive into. 

The island he swam to was so isolated and peaceful that he felt at odds with it, even with it’s Shrine glowing irritatingly behind him. He’d taken a flower from the place on the hilltop where Zelda’s memory burned into his retinas, and without meaning to, he clutched at it. Link didn’t need to look at the dark glow of Hyrule Castle to be able to picture it’s writhing mass perfectly. He didn’t need to remember Zelda to feel her pull at him like gravity. The gap in his memories widened until he couldn’t comprehend the vastness of his missing time. 

How would one explain, even with a working voice, that he was a knight who had been sleeping off death for 100 years? It was hard to believe. Then there were the Shrines. If his affinity for the sword hadn’t been enough of a warning, these constructs that were thousands of years old, would unlock only for _him._ He’d bribed other people to hold the Sheikah slate-thing on its pedestal, and yet nothing happened. Yet a flick of his touch on the slate and the way before him opened, with dreaded, horrible certainty. 

The Goddesses had a sick sense of humour. 

Lake Hylia glinted sadly in the moonlight, and Link stifled the threat of sobs as the knot in his throat tightened in forlorn frustration. Fuck the Gods and their lousy plans. Fuck these Ghosts that wouldn’t help him. Fuck the memories that evaded him. He could defeat a Guardian, but what use was that when he still had the rest of the world to take on? 

It occurred quietly. A hushed lullaby floating gently over the water, quiet and far off, sad and raw and familiar. Link achingly laid his face in his hands and listened. The smell of the flower eased him, and the voice continued, echoing like droplets in stillness. He laid his face against the cold sand and mourned his memories. 

_“Come and raise your voice_

_Above the raging seas_

_We cannot hold our breath forever_

_When our brothers cannot breathe...”_

He was haunted by so many things, but in that one moment, Link found himself wishing for the haunting presence to stay, just a little longer, so he might not feel so alone. If it were Malice, if it wanted to kill him, he welcomed it, just for a moment of peace on the lonely tide. 

* * *

When Link awoke in the morning, eyes puffy and heart heavy, he found himself under a cover, musty and fraying though it was, his head on a pillow made of a sack and loose wool. A silver sword stood propped in the sand next to him, the same usual driftwood token hanging from it. Beneath it sat an uncooked fish, wrapped in seaweed. 

The realisation was slow and only briefly startling, but the lake was calm and the air was crisp, and as he quietly lay, thinking about the lullaby from across the water. It seemed nice, to awake and have something there, waiting for him and only him. The silver sword glinted happily. 

He welcomed the warmth of the morning, getting up and lifting the weapon from its resting place, sheathing it and collecting the fish gratefully. 

Someone tiptoeing around him in the dead of night _should_ have made him uncomfortable - should have made him fearful and run back to the closest Hylian camp with one eye over his shoulder, but Link was simply _tired._ For someone to have supplied a bed and comfort, was to soothe a-something in him that was inflamed and painful.

Though, if it really was the Calamity, he’d stick a sword through it and then run for the hills -- but with gratitude?

From then on, the weapons and food that were left in conspicuous places were taken, used and appreciated. Link was sure his Red Ghost was waterbound to some degree. Often he would make a big show of placing a borrowed sword back into the sand at the water's edge after he had used it to its maximum capacity. He sometimes awkwardly signed his thanks to the river, just in case. He would wait a while, almost hoping to know his beneficiary, who never appeared whilst he watched, before moving onward with his journey. 

A sword appeared on the bank one morning, blade plunged into the sand and it’s handle sporting a cloth like a flagpole, an egg he’d found near its base, perfectly whole and still dripping river water. 

Link took it. He cooked himself some bird thighs on a campfire a short way from the sword, his back turned to the weapon. The egg split and cooked nicely on a flat river rock, and Link put it next to their silver trading post, quietly sitting back down to eat. He didn’t know why he didn’t watch for his hidden companion. Perhaps it was just more comfortable with them being strangers. He didn’t really want to know if the thing behind him was coming to kill him, either. 

There was the smallest sound of droplets from the surface of the river, so Link waited, and when he finally turned, the flat rock was at the base of the sword, wet, and eggless. He grinned despite himself. 

And so, Link began to return to the bank nightly to leave gifts, and pick up the ones that were left for him. The silver sword in the sand near the Stable became a quasi delivery point. He often left food, sometimes carvings - a little horse from wood or a shaped Bokoblin horn, or a figure made from woven grass.

The things he received in return were beautiful. Often river pearls or shells, but also swords, regularly rusty but clearly Hylian and ancient in origin. A quiver made from seaweed leather that could fit twice as many arrows as his current one, and raw gemstones. 

Then, one night, a scroll was knotted to the handle of the sword. 

When Link opened it, he was greeted with his own portrait, drawn in an inky substance that made him look intense and contemplative. His shoulders were bare, and missing the scars that Link knew were there in reality, but the artist didn’t. 

He probably should have felt scandalised by the fact that the Red Ghost had known enough of him to make such a close likeness, and yet he knew nothing of it’s artist, but instead all he could think of was the possibilities. Invasive as it was, Malice and the calamity had no creativity, no artistry, no humanity. This was warm and familiar in a way that Link could not connect with any such beast. Nothing about Gannon summoned in him the will to live again, but this...

To have drawn, to have lifted him from the river upon their first meeting - the creature must have strong arms and articulate hands, but to swim and live underwater as it seemed to...fins? Gills? tentacles? -- and to sing it must have a mouth!

So Link did a portrait for his Ghost too. What materialised was an absurdly funny rendition of a fish with incredibly muscled arms, scratched onto a rock with the flint off an arrow, Musical notes arranged about it like a halo. 

Link listened for his gift to be accepted into the river, and tried to stifle a giggle. When he eventually turned around his masterpiece had been put back. He went over and picked it up, running a thumb over the scratches. The Fish was now sporting a wonky smile and had a digit scrawled on one hand as if to simulate a thumbs up. 

Link looked into the river for any indication of the creature, but the water was murky and reflected the grey sky overhead too well. He smiled, glad that the stranger had a sense of humour and silently hoped his Red Ghost didn’t really look like his daft drawing. 

Link drew a few stars around the goofy figure and committed it back into the river, with an air of awkward sacredness this time. He watched intently, and for the barest moment, the water betrayed a flash of Red - A fin perhaps? Maybe the idea of the Fish-Man wasn’t so far off. He had heard whispers of similar species, but for whatever reason, Link did not wish to know more. There was a weight to expectations that Link was no longer comfortable with, and hated the idea of imposing the same on another creature. To know more about what the Red Ghost _might_ be was to predict the shape of a life, and he had barely any control over the shape of his own, let alone wanting to mould someone else’s. 

Link grinned and ate his dinner on the bank. His companion didn’t appear, but he felt somehow both sure and comfortable that he was being watched. 

The next present should probably be something that his Ghost hadn’t seen before. Maybe something from Kakariko? Or perhaps further? Not knowing what the stranger even liked or wanted made it harder. 

The Hydromelon was juicy, but too large for him to finish off on top of stew, so Link tested the waters and threw a slice of it into the widest part of the river and waited. 

The Melon floated stationary, even as the river tried to carry it downstream. Link peered, but the faintest hint of red hung below the waterline. Irritated bubbles broke the surface. 

Link hung his head to the side trying not to smirk. Whatever it was, it didn’t like being seen. He made a big show of covering his eyes, peeking through his fingers at the Melon. 

The bubbles this time were large and loud as they broke the water, almost upsetting the fruit.   
  
_“Stop looking”_ the gurgles seemed to say.

Link took his hands away and chuckled, turning away from the river and looking off toward the skyline, where Hyrule Castle loomed over the field, to let the Ghost retrieve his Melon fearlessly. 

He heard it disappear with a merry plop. The world was quiet and calm. 

The Fruit Rind skidded across the ground to Link’s right, all but the very outer part gnawed at with sharp teeth marks.

The Hylian grinned and turned back to the river, pretending to throw the next slice out into the water. A ripple and another round of playful bubbles bounced across its surface.

Still too shy? He turned back to face the castle, listening carefully. He couldn’t place why, but he was sure if he looked now he would see what his crimson companion looked like. Still, he readied himself visibly, and threw the melon slice over his shoulder as strongly as he could. 

The resounding splash hit his back, as whatever-it-was leapt for the fruit and re-entered the water, the noise and movement cacophonous. Link gaped, turning slowly. The second Hydromelon rind floated harmlessly downriver, and the ripples from the jump carried it along faster. Whatever his Red Ghost was, it was _big_. His curiosity deepened, but it was overcome with a simple contentment.

He laughed and whistled in celebration of the jump he didn’t even see, and left the rest of the Melon next to the sword. He couldn’t deny that he was looking forward to the next time they should meet. 

Link signed _‘I’ll see you soon!’_ The river burbled happily in reply and Link mounted Epona, urging her on as fast as she could run. When he looked over his shoulder, the Melon was gone and a swell surged upriver after him, faster than he could almost believe. 

If Link squinted against the wind in his eyes, he would have sworn he saw a red tail in the flow and the waves. 

If for a moment, it was easy to forget everything else.


	2. Perfect Colour

His next gift to the river was a pumpkin. It was small, though it was the largest he could find in the Kakariko fields and was still white-green with spring’s first breaths. It took him an hour to carve the top off and make a stew with the innards, including copious amounts of meat, fish and mushrooms, and carving into the exterior afterward. He wondered what an underwater creature such as the Red Ghost might like, but soon decided that there was no point guessing. Instead he carved images of the riverside - plants and deer grazing peacefully, a hunter raising her bow and a couple washing themselves. He then placed a small bundle of twigs in the pumpkin and set light to them.

His little lantern glowed a ghostly white light, as he pushed it out into the river. It bobbed there like a whisp, forlornly attracting the earliest evening fireflies. Link had only a vague hope of what might happen, and honestly he wasn’t sure if he wanted anything to happen at all. His stew reached boil, and he turned to tend to it, waiting. 

It all seemed foolish, in perspective, but he enjoyed the stolen time - whittling away the hours that he knew he should be using for fighting Ganon. The clutch of fate already pressed heavily on his shoulders - so what was a few more days before he threw his life away on a fool's errand a second time? It had long since been time to return to see Purah and Impa. He idly wondered if he had considered them both friends 100 years ago. His past self felt like a stranger.

The sound of the river was comforting, but bought the cold with it. Link’s tunic felt paper thin as the evening settled in, the sky painted in pleasant lilac. The little glows of the fireflies drifted across the grass, glinting in the silver sword still set on the bank, and Link sighed, feeling foolish. He took a sip of the stew, quietly resenting his wastage of good ingredients. There was far too much to eat alone, but it was the tastiest thing he had cooked in a while.

The fireflies buzzed away from the water's surface, flying away faster than Link could jump to attention. The river looked empty, it’s dark glassy surface dyed purple with the evening light, and the tiny fire from his floating pumpkin, still tethered to the bank so as not to float away downstream. 

He held his breath and waited. 

Then the Pumpkin turned, little eddies curling about it as it drifted against the current. It floated purposely forwards until it was barely an arms length from the bank. Link could see nothing, and did not try to look under the depths. He stood and gave a smile and a wave, motioning for the Red Ghost to stay put while he poured some stew out into a wooden bowl. He moved toward the river, and his pumpkin backed off to the safety of the opposite bank, bubbles blossoming underneath the vegetable petulantly. 

Link grinned and backed off once the meal was in place, putting his hands in the air to show that he meant no harm. He sat and waited, but the pumpkin only swam closer, and made no further move. The Hylian thought for a moment. The creature was either still fearful, or did not want to be seen. He reasoned that if it was the former, then the Ghost certainly would not have gone out of its way to help Link, pulling him out the river, nor making him a bed upon the banks of Lake Hylia. He tugged an old shirt out of his pack, winding it up and tying it over his eyes. He sat, feeling for his own bowl of stew, before messily tucking in. He sincerely hoped that all of this did not look as stupid as it felt. 

He strained to listen between wolfing down his soup. Each flick of the current on the river-rocks had him nervous and excited, and then eventually when the river sang with the droplets of something lifting from its surface he had to force himself to keep eating over the exhilaration.

The stew was slurped, and Link grinned around the lip of his own bowl. 

He waited until he was absolutely sure the creature was back in the safety of the river and took the blindfold off. The pumpkin was back in the middle of the river, unmoving even in the current. Link threw more wood on the fire and stood. 

He held a wavering thumb up in the air and shrugged. It was as close as he could get to asking his company: ‘any good?’

The Pumpkin swam a lazy circle in the water. 

He didn’t know what it meant but he hoped his cooking was appreciated.

Link sat back next to the fire and poured himself another bowl, watching the pumpkin swim slow, meandering shapes that lit up the river in a ghostly white, teasing the arcs of the fireflies drawn to it. 

The lights further off in the distance glinted - the fire of distant stables, and Link wondered what it was to be part of those families. Was there a contented quiet just like this? Had he once had a family? He wondered if the goddesses would allow him to remember. For the barest moment, he wanted someone to look at him and speak his name in recognition. The phantom mouth forming the sounds was smiling, a light building behind its face like the rising sun, until Link opened his eyes, and all that shone was the dim light of the pumpkin, within reaching distance. 

_“What can we really do?”_ A soft, female voice echoed, between the space in his thoughts. 

‘All good things must fade.’ Link replied, closing his eyes.. 

  
  


****

  
  


Purah lowered the slate and sighed. The sensor was throwing out warnings from all over Link’s body, though she was concentrated mainly on his head and neck, and the Hylian himself sat and grimaced in only shorts, his skin prickled with goosebumps. 

“There’s too much here, Linky.”  
  
He shrugged, hand waving dismissively. ‘ _It was a long-shot, anyway.’_

“You get it right? Too much body trauma here for us to unpack in order to even locate any injury that could have caused the memory loss - that is, if it wasn’t the shrine of resurrection itself.” 

_‘At least I can remember Zelda now.’_ Link frowned. ‘ _Though I think I dreamed about the bit where she forced me to eat a frog.’_

Purah’s face morphed into one of joyous rapture “You didn’t tell me you were her lab rat! Say, would you be willing to try an elixir I made that will let you control guardians with your mind?! Or...they’d control you...I’m not sure yet.”   
  
“Purah! Think about what you’re saying!” Symin yowled.

Link couldn’t even find the motions to be able to sign his displeasure. He pulled his shirt and dusty trousers back on whilst Symin pretended not to stare. 

“So what are you gonna do now Linky? I can keep working on the restoration theory?”  
  
 _‘You just want to see me topless again.’_ She giggled maniacally and shook her head - Link knew he wasn’t exactly pretty to look at under the clothes. Symin had some morbid fascination with his scars that Link found off putting and strange. Or at least...it made him feel off-putting and strange. Perhaps trying to find his memories would be like trying to rid himself of his scars. He scratched his ear ‘ _Yeah, keep going. What can it hurt?’_

“You, probably.” Purah grinned. “So where are you questing next?”

 _"I’ll probably just go fishing.’_ He was almost completely serious. 

“That’s irresponsible.” Purah pouted. Symin looked at her with a thin veneer of disbelief and anger on his face. 

_‘So is trusting the fate of a kingdom to an amnesiac whose already failed once before, but here we both are.’_ Link shrugged.

She frowned deeply, mumbling. “Huh...if only the Princess were here to see you now.” 

He shouldered his sheath, ignoring her and put his hair back in his usual ponytail. The silence was uncomfortable and Symin went back to shuffling through his books. It seemed as good a time as any to ask. 

_‘Purah...have I changed? From who I was before?’_

She put her hands on her hips in mock frustration, but her eyes held back panic. She didn’t answer, only _‘hmph’_ ing in distaste. 

_‘Tell me.’_

“Of course you have!” She frowned, hands falling from her hips. “I’ve seen you change a bunch of times -- from a kid to a trainee to an over-responsible adult, to Champion with the whole Kingdom--”

_‘That’s not what I’m asking and you know it!’_

She sighed in exasperation, shrinking. “Yes! You’ve changed. You were many things, Linky, but you never--you were never **uncaring**! It used to be that we couldn’t stop you from doing the right thing - even at the cost of your own health, but now-- Now it’s like I can’t talk to you about anything. And that’s the trouble - The old you wouldn’t have batted an eyelid about doing everything he could to get our Hyrule back! The trouble is, I still think you’re our best shot, and I don’t know how to convince you to care!” 

Link stood, dumbfounded. 

He’d suspected as much - the Ghost of King Rhoam, Impa and Purah all confirming the type of person he had been before. 

They were at as much of a loss as he. They could not conceive of a present where Link did not seek out justice, and he could not conceive of a past that did. 

He shut his eyes and grit his teeth until his jaw rattled. There wasn’t really anything he could say without lying. 

_"Sorry.’_ He signed, hands falling uselessly when he’d finished, ignoring Symin as he shook in the corner. Purah pouted sadly, hands finding the hem of her dress and tugging at it until she adjusted her glasses to hide a hiccup of sadness. 

“I am too, Linky. None of this is fair.”

He cringed, hating the disappointment in her voice. 

It was time to get out, and for once, the scientist didn’t try to stop him as he went. Though a question plagued him until the door. 

_‘Purah...what would make a good gift for a... stranger who isn’t a stranger?’_

Purah jumped, clearly expecting him to leave immediately. “You mean Princess Zelda? Oh Linky, she’s not a stranger! She’d probably be happy with just your presence, but if you gotta get her a present, she always did like botanical samples, or maybe astronomy? Don’t worry, you’ll see her soon and you won’t have to worry about all this memory business! The Princess still needs you though, don’t take too long.” She clicked her tongue and snapped her fingers as if to emphasise the point. “How about you take her a telescope?” The little one she produced from the pile of odd knicknacks underneath her table was engraved with ‘Hateno Tech Lab’ on the side, in scratchy little letters. 

Link rolled his eyes and gave her a sarcastic thank you, but took the proposed gift anyway. 

He walked out of the Lab and back into the rain. He heard Symin accuse Purah of being insensitive the moment the door shut behind him, and a round of animated bickering began. 

****

  
  


The summer heated the air into a warm shivery haze. Link slouched under the tree, face flushed and sweating in the heat. The bank was a scant few feet in front of him, and the Red River Ghost lay under the water, both of them languid in companionable silence. The blistering sunshine dusted the road surfaces and the grass was a dehydrated yellow, and so the river was laden with the clog of too-dry earth. Link could only just barely make out the suggestion of the creature below the water. He did not worry - if the water had been clear he would not have been graced with its presence at all.

Link puffed as whittling became too hot for him. Instead he split the feathers for the fletching of more arrows. The telescope had burnt a hole in his pocket, but Link was still not sure as to whether he should save it for Princess Zelda, whom he only had a single memory of, or gift it to his new friend whom he had never seen. Both concepts seemed daft. What could a Princess or a river creature need a telescope for?

The feathers stuck to his hands as the film of sweat across his palms became too cloying, and he sighed in frustration and washed his hands in the river water, quickly giving up. He wiped the sweat away and moved his arrow-making supplies, sitting with legs thrown out in front of him and up to his waist in the blessedly cool stream.

Red, as Link has come to nickname the creature, had become more comfortable in his presence. They had short bursts of simplistic conversations, acted out with drawings, odd gifts and shapes or bubbles in the surface of the water. Sometimes there’s even a hum or a growl. It was pleasant, Link found. Just to sit in the company of Red and have nothing expected of him. 

He dropped a feather in the river, the curve of it carrying it like a little boat. The red blur shifted, and with a miniscule plop, the water claimed the feather and spat it back out mere moments later, already beautifully split into two - the perfect fletching. The split feather drifted toward him, pushed shorewards by the breath from the creature below. Link snatched them, knitting them both onto his current arrow. He held the finished arrow up and gave Red a little round of applause at their team effort. 

Bubbles broke the surface, and Link interpreted that as _“Thank you.”_ Another volley followed, popping pleasantly, _”Another?”_

  
  


The heat did not let up, and Link found himself spending long days in the cool embrace of the river. His arrow collection had gotten large - Red had also turned out to be very good at securing the fletchings to arrow shafts, and Link had wanted an excuse for them to continue their strange little friendship, so they worked together. 

Link had discovered something - Red knew how to write. 

He had been floating on his back, the shallow waters were tepidly warm and he was still too hot, so with as little effort spared as possible, he pushed from the shore into deeper water.The thought of the River Ghost swimming beneath him was alien and perhaps a little bit thrilling. He felt an incongruous current eddy around his shoulder. 

Something soft caressed the curve of his heel, and Link startled, droplets spraying everywhere. The hum that came next was reassuring, and bubbles rose again. _“Haha, sorry!”_ it said, wordless. 

Without thinking too much, Link drew the letters for ‘OK’ on the water's surface, and quietly went back to drifting, perhaps a little on edge. 

Slow, gliding movements like Red sometimes made the hair on the back of his neck stand up - he saw the same liquid movement sometimes in Lizalfos, or the intentional pulsing of the Calamity’s malice, but where those things caused fear, there was an edge of excitement to Link’s reaction. If he had ever been one for fishing the old fashioned way, it might have been like spotting the glint of far-off treasure or the shadow of a fish about to take the bait. 

Link did not jump the next time the touch was placed surely against his leg, politely avoiding tickling this time.

Link did not look, but his heart skipped a beat. It went against his instincts to stay still when something lurked below, but the touch tapped him lightly on the shoulder blade twice, and then drew a question mark. 

_‘Are you alright?’_ The bubbles asked, the rumble audible just below the water.

The response had him a little bit floored. He spelled the word ‘hot’ with a languid finger, and then felt stupid for it. Link corrected the assumption of literacy by yawning, massaging his neck and fanning himself as a reply. The sky was so blue and fathomless above, as was the secret of Red’s appearance below him, that Link almost does not want to know the true shape of either. He sighed, contented, kicking his legs lightly enough to push him into colder waters. 

Bubbles erupted at the nape of his neck from directly below, and Link yelped, splashing gracelessly. The water laughed, and what felt to Link, to be distinctly the shape of a hand steadied him. Link gasped for air and felt the water drag over his scalp, his hair brushed by the caress of the river. Red was gently holding the middle of his back, steering him to traverse the surface of the river slowly, and the creature swam under him. Link almost panicked to begin with, but the icy water ran over his shoulders and lapped at his chest - down his legs and Link gave into the glorious graze of it.

‘C-o-o-l’ The touch spelt across his back.

Link nodded serenely, before his eyes shot open and the heat flushed over him. 

It was so gentle and so _other,_ and it could spell. Link floated stupefied.

Once he did muster up the courage, he wrote “S-W-I-M?”

He squirmed experimentally tilting his head back in the water and stretching his arms above his head, pointing them like an arrow. He kicked lightly to go faster. His companion blew a volley of bubbles, swimming underneath and occasionally jetting a steam of much cooler water across Link’s calves and neck. 

Eventually, the touch found his back again, and asked “p-u-s-h-?”

Link took only a moment to process, before nodding excitedly and stretching out a little more. 

Hands grasped his waist, and Link nearly jumped clean out the water. He looked at them in shock, before remembering he was not supposed to be seeing Red and letting his head flop back, nodding to cover his mistake. The hands were _huge_ \- elegant, clawed things. Red was not in fact, completely red - his palms had a delicate creamy-white scale that glistened like crushed pearl under the water and the sunshine. His were nails are long and savage, and there was webbing between each dangerous digit as it curled harmlessly over Link’s waist to steer him. It certainly explained how Red made quick work of the fletching. Of course, he should absolutely be afraid of a killing machine with claws that can swim and jump and could skewer him like he was paper, but Link supposed that he’d be dead by now if the creature had meant him any harm, so he simply felt the pressure on his waist, smiled and nodded again, kicking slightly.

The current was a sweet and a calm trickle across his arms and chest, and it was both too hot on his stomach and quiveringly cold on his backside. The only neutral temperature was where the hands held him. As the Hylian settled, the push from below began in earnest, and the river swam by at a steady walking pace, blissfully cool through his shorts.

He thought of the wave surging upriver that had kept pace with him and Epona as they galloped. The same sense of freedom overcame him, and he kicked a little bit to make them go that slight bit faster. Red, gracefully took the suggestion, a blast of bubbles tickling his ear happily. The resistance from the river became punishing, but Link laughed joyously, only his head above water as the stream caressed down his thighs and across his neck. He kicked again.

The speed change was instant and startling. Link felt the water resist him like someone was pushing him away. They were going as fast as Link would be able to run, and then faster. He would whoop and gasp in shock but the waves broke over the crest of his head and he had to concentrate on which way they turned. He felt the body beneath him surging through the water, the power he lay on top of brushed against his back and thighs, the river roared past his ears and his heart was laughing. They drew a huge infinity symbol in the swell and Link felt the day’s sweat being blissfully banished from his skin. 

Red humoured him for far longer than Link would have expected, hands eventually leaving his sides at the setting of the sun, and apologetic bubbles blooming across his wet skin. He was suddenly, uncompromisingly alone, and only his back and the little telescope awaited him. 

He hadn’t even had the chance to say thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! Please let me know what you think. Comments are appreciated, welcome and constructive critisism is always actively encouraged. This isn't Beta read at all and I type faster than I think so I'm sure there's a lot of mistakes, sorry everyone. I hope your day is beautiful ;3


	3. Bite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for violence and blood! Sorry, my stories tend to go from 0 to 100 really quickly, and this one is no exception. I hope you enjoy it.

_“Maybe things can go back to the way they used to be”_

Link scribbled out the last line of his most recent attempt at a letter, and ignored the half-heard voice at the edge of his consciousness. It was a memory, he was sure, but it didn’t sound like Zelda. He crumpled the paper in one hand and rapped on his skull with the other in annoyance. Voices were not helpful. 

What exactly did one say to giant river Ghosts? 

He sighed and leant back against the stable’s beam, Epona whinnying at him from across the wooden hearth. He always chose the bed closest to her. 

The more he tried, the more that the problem became apparent. He didn’t really know how to meet the expectations held of him, not even from the voices in his head; nor a stranger in the river. 

The stable maid placed another drink on his bedside cabinet and he nodded in thanks. They were always wonderfully courteous. She looked at the leaves of discarded paper and hummed. 

“A letter? Are you having trouble?” 

Link went to scowl at her, but her hat was lopsided and her expression was earnest, freckles dusting her curiosity. He immediately nodded and shrugged. 

_‘A letter of introduction, to someone I have met but have never seen.’_ He wrote, aware of how insane it sounded. 

“Oh! You mean like a pen pal?” She asked. When Link looked confused, she laughed. “I guess not - but usually just writing anything will be fine - I used to have one and then I just felt like I ran out of anything meaningful to say. I think that sometimes it doesn’t have to be meaningful. Just say anything, maybe it’ll be heard. Well, sorry for bothering you. Good luck with the letter.” 

She grinned, and took her tray with her, scratching Epona’s neck on the way past. 

He frowned, and then looked at the blank sheet. Maybe it was just that simple. 

  
  


****

  
  


_Thank you for the swim, and for pulling me out the river_ was all the note said. He sighed in disappointment, and folded the paper along its leftmost edge, repeating the fold and then squaring the sheet. He let it fall in the water and watched the parchment bob away like a little boat. He would try to write something better tomorrow. But for now, in the dying light of the day in clear waters, he suspected Red wouldn’t show, nor read his pathetic attempt at correspondance. 

Instead, he threw himself, back first, into the water, the droplets shooting up about him like a curtain, feeling it carry away his worries as the spray washed his face and the liquid smoothed his shoulders. The current swept him oh-so-gently and he let his eyes fall closed. It was warm - the heat of summer having finally caught up to it, and it felt like an old friend resting between his fingers. 

The paper boat bobbed next to him, and he ignored it, resolutely floating away. 

Breeze fluttered over his mouth as bubbles nudged at his back. Link’s eyes shot open. Red was here. He turned his head to the side and watched, one elegantly clawed finger stretching up to his right and enclosing around the little boat. 

It was gulped down by the water’s surface, and Link forced himself to look back up at the sunset-punctured clouds, ignoring his heartbeat rippling through the water. 

There was a pause, and then the bubbles erupted merrily under his hand. 

Link breathed out, gratefully. His face was flushed with a bright grin. He stretched, feeling as though he were lighter. 

The pad of a finger touched the small of his back where his shirt did not cover him, but this time he had been prepared for it. 

“S-W-I-M?” 

Link thought, nodded, and hands were on his waist again, the pressure of the hold unchanged from their first touch. Link placed a hand over his eyes, and then placed his left over Red’s hand, as gently as he could. His companion flinched and let go of Link’s waist on both sides, but did not remove itself completely. 

The Hylian smiled, took a deep breath, and sunk. He kept his eyes covered, and used Red’s hand in his to orient himself so he was facing his companion. He was not sure how to express it, so he simply bowed deeply, which was difficult in the water, and gave Red a big blind thumbs up. He felt daft, not even sure if he was facing the right way or if his friend was even there, but the swimming was fun and he had to say thanks properly somehow. 

The response was slow, but the hand that was in Link’s returned there, and Link was pulled close enough to feel the water rush about Red like breath coming out of a Hylian’s mouth, the flow of it was refreshing, even without any vision to aid it. 

He was curious, knowing they were face to face, but he didn’t lift the hand away from his eyes and held his breath, knotted in his throat, though the water pressure was beginning to crush him. He felt Red shake his hand, like they’d just done a business deal, and the creature clearly decided that wasn’t enough. Links hand was pulled and placed on something warm. Scaley. He felt through his fingertips the great thrumming of a heart, and for a moment he felt the current still about them. He did not know what it meant, and wondered if the creature could feel his stuttering pulse too.

He needed to breathe, and the last of his lungful escaped his mouth in a plume. Then hands were on his waist again, and he was thrown upwards, clearing the surface with a shocked gasp and landing back in the water with a slap. It hurt a bit but Link laughed breathlessly when he resurfaced. 

_Just say anything, maybe it’ll be heard._

  
  


_****_

_She was walking away. As usual. Hunched over the sheikah slate like it owed her rupees. It was simultaneously frustrating and understandable. He could tell everything at a glance - her feet hurt, the nails in her shoes were wearing through the soles - the tunic she wore had long since started chafing her about the neck and the scented oil she’d washed her hair in, though wonderfully fragrant, had bought out angry red welts on her scalp. Still she did not stop, her long blonde hair jostling tirelessly._

_Link had taken up the job of being her knight because it was his duty. He wasn’t going to shirk it, no matter what. The trouble was, he’d been by her side a matter of days and she was determined to make a stranger of him. She wore her heart on her sleeve so plainly - Link could tell what she felt even though all he ever seemed to see of her was her back._

_When she turned and asked him about the voice of the Sword, sat high upon his shoulder, strap cutting into his neck, he had no answers. The Sword of Evil’s Bane had as much of a voice as he did. But if he needed to have heard a voice, then so be it. He had heard one. That was his job, even if it wasn’t reality._

_He nodded for Zelda, and for the first time, did not understand why she looked disappointed._

  
  


****

  
  


Link awoke covered in stale sweat, his heart punching at his ribs. The Sheikah slate was not at his side - It was pitch black, and something shifted as he gasped down air, the rasp of it burning his throat. 

The river trickled by, the bank supporting his head. A soft, tiny pinkish glow came from the current. He sat up, eyes streaming with tears, hands grasping for the slate and desperate for something familiar. The silver sword stood silhouetted against the thick black of the sky.

Under the faint whisper of the night, the duelling peaks reared in the distance, summits obscured by clouds. He scrambled for the water, grasping at the river weeds as his lungs heaved. He leant over the verge and plunged a hand into the swell, calling wordlessly, panic rising - stomach rattling. 

He crawled forwards on his ribs, thistle scratching, plunging a second hand into the river and searching, directionless. The light had gone! The light! Where was the slate?!

Fuck! Where was the slate? 

The bank slid, and the mud and stone carried him headfirst into the current, before hands grasped him firmly, keeping his body out of the water.

The glow! Tiny specks of warm light, glowing pleasantly as his slate did, but it was not the slate. 

Link gasped and cried. 

What would Zelda do if she found out he had lost it? What if---

A gentle touch came from the creature that held him out the water, and Link came hurriedly to his senses.

He could barely see past tears and river water, but the hands that held him were Red’s. The lullaby that eased him was Red’s, and as he let his head fall in exhaustion, the thrum of the heart he could feel was Red’s.

He let his eyes slip closed, and shuddered. 

Why could he not remember anything useful? Why did Zelda look so lost in his memories? Why was he no longer himself? Why was the sense of duty he used to feel, vacant in his mind? 

Where was his damned slate? 

He felt the drips of water on his face as Red lifted him gently away from the river, a huge, tender hand supporting his head. The bank was soft with grass a little further up, and Red placed him down upon his bedroll. The droplets made it wet, but Link did not care. Instead, as he lay, the covers jostled and he felt the corner of the slate, haphazardly poking from under the pillow - the light from the screen showed even from under the curtain of his eyelids. 

He gasped in relief and fell into bed gratefully, clutching at Red’s retreating hand and the slate, his eyes squeezed closed in surrender. 

He did not open his eyes, nor did he let go, yet Red made no complaint. 

Sleep was quick to claim him again, a voice lulling him, and little pink scaled stars dancing above his head. 

_“These fleeting charms of earth_

_Farewell, your springs of joy are dry_

_My soul now seeks another home_

_A brighter world on high,_

_I'm a-long time travelling here below,_

_I'm a-long time travelling away from home,_

_I'm a-long time travelling here below_

_To lay this body down”_

He could have sworn another voice sang too, but sleep claimed him before he could truly listen. 

  
  


****

  
  


“You need to listen to the information, Linky!” Purah squawked, stomping on her little chair as he chucked his equipment on the table and produced the sheikah slate from his belt. “At least do that! Are you ignoring me?”

Link looked her dead in the eyes and slid the slate toward her, then sat down as slowly as he could. 

_‘I’m listening.’_

Purah paused in obvious suspicion. Symin pretended not to be happy about it and kept his nose buried in an upside down book. 

“Well...uh, new reports have come in! More Guardians around the castle and it looks like the storms around the Divine Beasts are worsening. If the weather front keeps up any longer then we’re going to start seeing catastrophic landscape changes! The worst of which is Death Mountain - if Rudania keeps disturbing the volcano then the eruption could cost us half of Hyrule.”

Link nodded, still looking a little reserved. He tapped the Sheikah Slate twice, then formed the words with three fingers extended. _‘I’ll have a look. No promises. Think you could upgrade this now? I might need the help’_

Purah ogled the Champion.

“Well why didn’t you ask sooner!” 

  
  


****

  
  


The silver sword waited for him at the end of the long grey trek. He breathed a strangled sigh when it came into view, like it was an old friend. 

The rain hadn’t relented all the way from Hateno, and he was soaked, but he enjoyed the gentle drum of water on his skin. He laid by the sword, his chest offered to the sky. Red had helped him again without knowing it. He didn’t have a present to even say thank you. _Except…_ he rooted around in his pack, and when he found what he sought, he let the telescope rest next to the Silver Sword’s blade. The noise of the droplets and the river and the storm was cacophonous, and Link revelled in its glory, laughing silently with it. He was glad their meeting place was on the way northwards -- he wouldn’t be back for a while and it wouldn’t have felt right not to say goodbye. 

He heard another laugh, coming from the water. 

Link rolled to the side, his head dangling over the bank so he could get a better look, and the flash of red that met his eyes on the opposite side made his body hitch in surprise. 

The man across from him laughed again, mania echoing over the rumble. 

The Yiga clansman evaporated in a puff of acrid smoke, and before Link had time to stand and process, he was upon him. Link reached for the silver sword and tugged it from the earth, barely blocking the talon of steel that threatened to carve out his skull. 

_How?!_ They found him?! He must have been followed from Hateno. He grimaced, rain getting in his eyes, and kicked the assassin in the stomach before they could try to land another blow. The foot landed and the sickle caught him in return, ripping into the flesh that shouldered his sword. The wound seared with cold, and then blistered in hot pain, blood slushing on to the bank. 

The Yiga was not thrown off, and instead fell on Link, pulling their blade so close Link could see his terrified expression reflected back at him in cold metal. The laughter did not stop, it sounded dead and practiced as though coming from a music box, until it hitched for the barest moment, as Link felt hot bubbles break next to his ear from the river below. 

The Yiga’s blade snapped, and Link threw with all his might, until the body above him was toppled and clutching onto his shirt so the assassin did not fall into the river. The manic giggle became a mortified scream, the bubbles stopped, and Link looked over his shoulder and stretched tunic down into the dark of the current below, his head heavy. 

There, below the flex of the water, his Red Ghost stared up at him, the crown of its forehead shading completely black eyes, teeth brutal and sharp and split by a snarl, tiny bubbles gurgling from between his jaws. Blood red scales, tiny orange stars, glistening with fury and the ripple of the flood. The face was large and the body attached was fluid and blurred, but Link could not look away. 

The Yiga toppled, their screaming turning into panicked sloshing as the black-eyed Ghost dragged him under the waves, and the river fell silent but for the droplets of rain. 

The current bloomed red. 

Link held his breath.

The body of the Assassin floated to the top, some pieces emerging later than others. 

Then the eyes reappeared, just inches from his face and staring up at him through the haze of blood and tide. Link gripped his shoulder and panted through his teeth. The plume of blood did not wash away. The creature bled profusely from a hole in its side, the tip of the sickle glinting maliciously in the inky water, but still it’s black eyes did not waver from Link. 

It would die with a wound like that. So would he - the arteries in his neck sang and he could barely see through the haze of his own pain.

He turned fully onto his stomach, ignoring the screaming nerves in his arm and the rain washing his blood into the river. The truth was, the creature might kill him just as the Yiga would have, but he had faced worse, and truthfully the idea of that death did not scare him as it ought. Perhaps being killed by a hopefully friendly creature was the best of all his potential fates. 

The little telescope had been knocked from its resting place, and Link scrabbled at it, dropping it into the water in a loose grip, half to test the Ghost in the water, half to show that he meant it no harm. He coughed with effort, and presented it to the creature. 

It did not look away, nor take heed of it’s wounds. Instead it regarded him. 

Then, it bit into Link’s offered hand. 

The Hylian could only silently yowl in surprise, but the bite was strong and did not release. With a tug, Link was swallowed by the river, his shoulder screeching with the chill of the murky waters. The air was knocked from him and the surface raced away, ears popping and lungs burning. The Blood mingled with the creature’s body until it looked as though it were made of red smoke. He shut his eyes and screamed, the last of his breath emerging in wild gusts of bubbles, blistering pain in his arm and the hand clamped with teeth, the motion of the water making his wrist feel as though it were tearing off. He kicked blindly in resistance against the murk swallowing him

Water rushed down his gullet and darkness swam around his mind, until his lungs finally gave out with a shudder.   
  
_“Join me. We’ll go together.”_ Her voice whispered. 

  
  
****

  
  
  


The rain stopped hitting his face, though he could still hear it. He coughed, and molten hot riverwater spewed from between his lips. When he opened his eyes, the Red beast growled above him, his body blocking out the vast sky, looking somewhere above them both. The blood that dripped on him in a languid trickle from his side stained the grass and his tunic red. 

“Linky! Get away!” he heard Purah screech. 

Link tried to find her, but his head swam and his body felt so hot and sluggish.

He tried to mouth _“Help”._

The Ghost looked down at him, it’s black eyes appraising and snarling at him. Link could barely move. The piece of blade stuck in the creature’s side ground into its ribs, and Link reached for it with his bloody, teeth-pocked hand. 

It opened its mouth and roared, and before Link could finish pulling the metal from its hiding place, the great Red Ghost had sunk its teeth into his body. Blood hit the sand beneath them, and the telescope dropped from its grasp. 

All Link could hear was the peaceful rainfall and gurgling breath of his Red Ghost. 

So this is how it ends? It seemed fitting, really. Link closed his eyes and let the pain flow through him. 

  
_“Shall we try one more time?”_ She said, her spirit rushing about him, and Link smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhangaaaar! I'm not sure it the was too quick of a decent into chaos? It felt right to have something jarring interrupt Link's avoidance tactics, but I'm not sure if I went too overboard. As always, sorry for the mistakes, I don't have a beta-reader because of poor life choices :,D. Let me know what you think, I love to read your comments :D I'm going to reply to all the ones from the past chapter when the next chapter is posted, so on and so forth! Thank you for reading!


	4. Glimmer

“What _was_ that?” Symin panted, his voice laced with worry.

“It looked like ... Well...it looked like a Deep Zora. Usually they are solely sea beings, unlike the Zora themselves. It’s impossible to see one in this context, but I can’t think of anything else.”

“There’s no way it could just be a Zora?” 

“At that size...it was easily double the size of a Hylian. Zora don’t skew small, but that's unlikely even for their tallest. Unless…”

“What?” Symin quizzed. 

“Ah, nothing, the numbers just don’t add up. We’ll be able to study it now! It might have bled out. How in Hyrule did it reach the lake anyway? I wonder if it’s been corrupted by Gannon?” 

Link breathed from the floor, listening quietly. It was barely morning, by the slant of the sun and the pale light that laid into his heavy eyelids like he’d destroyed it’s pottery collection. 

Bled out? He pulled himself to sitting and threw off the blanket. Purah frowned owlishly from her usual perch at her bench. 

“Linky, you gotta stop worrying us like that. You’re lucky you’re still alive after fighting--.”

 _‘Bled out?’_ Link asked hurriedly, the bandage on his hand and opposite shoulder restricting his signs. 

“Yes, you pulled your blade out its side and we had no choice but to leave it in Lake Sumac.” 

Link hauled himself up. _‘Not my blade! The Yiga’s! I have to see him - he’s dying!’_ He was still in his shorts as he barged open the Lab door and half ran - half fell down the sloped road, his legs weak and shivering. The cliff edge tumbled away and Link searched the lake beyond it frantically for _anything -_ the tiniest flash of fin or red of glint of flesh.   
  
_There._ In the shadow of the gargantuan tree that sat astride the lone island in the Lake, bubbles rising so quietly as if greeting the sun, and agitated thrashing under the surface. Link unfurled his glider, and jumped, hanging using the crook of his good arm and what little he could reach with the other hand. It was haphazard and uncontrolled, but he hit the earth of the islet at the center of the lake with a roll to cushion himself.

The water stilled, from it’s previous rippling 20 feet away. He could hear Purah calling desperately from the cliffside. The creature was still bleeding. Link could smell it in the air. The water was dark with it. 

Link rushed for the shoreline, and the shadow under the water pulled away as he did. His heart sunk. For each step forward, the creature moved away. 

Half-naked and waist deep in trembling water with neither of his arms working properly, and yet the Ghost was the one scared of _him._

Link mourned. For when he needed comforting, the creature had a lullaby. Now they were both here stranded, and Link had no voice to give in return. So he turned. His back faced to the glassy surface of the open water, just as he had when throwing the melon, his eyes screwed closed. 

He stepped backward, and sank lower into the swell. 

There was no rush of water, so Link did it again, balancing on the rocks of the bank on his tiptoes when all but his head was under the frigid lake. His bandages soaked and his body raised with goosebumps, he waited. There was no noise but the gentle chirping of birds, and the soft caress of the lake around his body as he strained to stay afloat. Purah began to scream somewhere off in the distance, but Link could barely register it. He quivered. Something brushed him. The breeze stilled. Link opened his eyes, feeling the cold bite of water on his wounded knuckles and a shiver skitter down his back. 

It was behind him, Link was certain. 

“LINKY! What are you doing?!?! Get out the water!! It’s--”

His lungs caught in his throat as the frigid water swelled over his head and he let himself submerge with a final step backward. The temperature of his face dropping so suddenly it felt as though his skin was being stretched over his skull. He felt the flick of the current as the Red Ghost moved, and Link pushed at the water until he was so far out of his depth that a muffled panic began to set in. His jaw ached with pressure and the wounds in his arms singed hot. The water felt as thick as syrup, as exhaustion permeated everything that the cold did not. He let himself fall still, and in the dark of the lake he opened his eyes. The water was clear, and the light above him danced like a heat mirage, casting a halo around the face of the Red Ghost, and making the blood in the water glow crimson orange. 

Gold. Glowing gold eyes. But they were black when the Yiga fought them? Now the slit pupil looked him up and down predatorily, but its eyelids were heavy. A half-absorbed memory or the same face wreathed in sunshine above him on a riverbank, liquid gold staring him down and an overjoyed smile, where now there was despair. 

Link gazed, trying to pick out details against his blurry vision. The wound in the Zora’s side was dark and bruised, and Link reached out to it.

The Red Ghost twitched sluggishly toward the darker part of the lake, but did not move away. 

Link let out the last of his held breath, and brushed the tip of his forefinger against the stranger’s shoulder. 

_Let me help you._ He asked it mentally. 

  
  
  
  


When he finally pulled the floating Zora to the bank of the Lake, all his wounds were open and he could feel the lakewater sloshing around in his lungs, the tang taste of blood lurking in his throat. 

Purah was on him, pulling him upright and away from the creature before he could muster the strength to cough up the pond’s worth of liquid he’d swallowed. 

“What were you thinking?!” 

Link pushed her away and splashed to his feet. 

His Red Ghost breathed raggedly, the smooth burly plane of his chest shuddered and the frills in his sides, that Link could only assume were gills, flared - blood and water sputtering in and out of the openings. His fins twitched unconsciously, pain making all the muscles bunch. The crown of his head was strong and stippled with pale patches of scale that glinted and flowed down the base of his head and into the huge tail, shaped for speed and brutality in the water. 

Link looked upon the face of his Red - though he had not imagined the creature’s form to such an extent, he was far from the imperfect reflection of Link’s idle thoughts - a creature made of glory from the quiet curve of his lips, the beautiful miniscule rosy scales that punctuated the space below his brow (where a Hylian’s nose would usually be), and the calm set of his eyes, closed in surrender and pain. 

Link had rarely seen anything red that made him happy - it usually meant Malice, Bokoblins or Lizalfos, or the Hylia-damned Blood Moon, but this Red, despite all of his better instincts, seemed beautiful and precious.

“Linky, it’s feral! Come away!” 

“Yes!” Symin began, “Please, your wounds are--”

He began to sign furiously. _‘You will help me heal him! Now!’_

Purah gawped, up to her little waist in the water and still reaching for him nonetheless. She looked between Link and the Zora in bewilderment. 

Its eyes were open, and it growled weakly, liquid gold orbs rolling in their sockets with the effort. 

Purah jumped and Symin tried in vain to pull her away from the creature, but it did not make to move, only to watch them wearily. Link wished he didn’t know how it felt. To be so exhausted and hurt that anything more than hoping for death was impossible. 

_‘Tell it that we’re going to help.’_ Link signed, his fingers dripping crimson. 

Purah opened and shut her mouth, staring warily at the Zora. 

“You get that I’m not a medical doctor right?” Her voice was shrill. “Oh, fine! Don’t look at me like that. Hi, crazy feral Zora, you better not bite me otherwise my diary will get all bloody when I write about how I murdered you---Stop it Linky! Fine. Fine! Zora, we’re going to help heal you, but if you try anything then I swear on my research that I’ll cook you.” 

The Zora looked as though it tried to growl, but instead it’s eyes rolled and slid shut, sharp teeth parted and straining with breath. 

As they pulled the creature further up the bank, Symin noticeably going into a panicked meltdown, Link tried to ignore the buckling of his knees. Purah rattled off a list of things she wanted from the lab and Symin ran like a man possessed up the hill. 

“So you got some explaining to do Linky. Why are we saving him?”

Link breathed in, and between stilling the blood flow and bandages, his hands told her a story. 

The story of the Red Ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dramuh! Intrigue! Another short chapter :,D Very sorry, please forgive me. I'm updating this every 2 days or so, and all the chapters are already written, so rest assured it will have an ending. The latter half of the chapters are going to get quite long though, and I might hvae to break them up into smaller chunks. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, comments, Kudos and shared are, as always, appreciated with the fondest warmest sincerity. Thank you so much to everyone whose shown this silly little project so much love thus far, you're astounding<3


	5. Warmer Climate

It had taken them the better part of a week to stabilize the creature, long nights and frightful days of cold compresses, changing bandages and burst stitches, but Purah had taken very little convincing after he had explained the story, and she had been instrumental in helping with the healing. 

Link shrugged on a new tunic, having only just remembered that he was still only wearing shorts and bandages himself. Everything still hurt. He hadn’t slept, afraid Red would slip away whilst he wasn’t looking. Link’s own injuries had stopped bleeding but his shoulder was inflamed and painful. 

The Zora was stretched out on a makeshift cot near the bookshelves. His feet hung off the end, and the Hylian had tried using stacks of books to create a more comfortable reclining position, but nothing looked right for him out of the water, and He (Purah was sure the Zora was a He, at least), had still not regained consciousness. He had sat, washing Red’s body to keep his skin hydrated, and wondered at all of him. The creature was gargantuan - his scales brilliant like the deepest texture of sunset, but currently he seemed pale, struggling for breath. Link had leant an ear to his chest to check that Red’s great heart was still beating when there seemed too long a break between gasps. Purah had mummified most of his chest and lower body in salve and bandages to keep the skin healthy whilst the Zora was on land, and Link found that despite his curiosity, looking at Red directly still felt somewhat uncomfortable - like a secret he should not know, but could not tear himself away from. 

Symin had found the telescope Link had left with, and a reed-paper book floating on the lake in the early hours of the previous morning. It took Link a moment of running his thumb over the writing on the telescope to understand how the Zora had known to bring him here, to Hateno, whilst both of them had been so busy bleeding to death in the water. 

He remembered holding it out to the Zora. It was supposed to be a gift, or an apology for allowing a Yiga assassin to follow them, and for the resulting attack. Instead his friend had interpreted it as a cry for help, and taken the “Hateno Tech Lab” scribbled on the side of the object as directions. The tiny telescope was like a signpost to its Giant twin that sat astride the Lab’s roof. Red had even kept his gifts and little note, refolded lovingly back into the shape of a boat and used as a bookmark. Link padded the cloth across red’s brow for the umpteenth time, and carefully checked on his bandages. 

Everything felt surreal, and dreamlike.

As for the book, Purah had practically stolen it off Link whilst their patient was still unconscious. She had cooed over it for hours. 

“Look how good the drawings are! There’s a diagram of a weight-bearing pulley system! Oh, that’s precious! He’s an engineer! And a portrait of you! He even got the scowl right!”

It was to this excitement that the Zora had woken up. His pupils were blown, but there was still Gold Iris present, and he was clearly stiff and uncomfortable. The canvas bandages were restrictive but necessary - the Ghost seemed groggy, soon startled to consciousness - immediately growling and trying to remove them in panic, eyes flashing around the room like a cornered deer. The stacks of books were thrown across the room and the cot destroyed in wild fear. The Zora did not seem to be able to stand, though it tried, collapsing in a heap across the ruins of the bed.

A Zora’s growl when above the water was closer to waves hitting rocks. The sound was quiet but did the trick - even as Purah had cornered the poor injured thing with Link’s Sheikah slate, apparently intent on taking pictographs for research purposes, she kept at a respectful distance. Red did not pounce, and eventually they all stood as unfriendly dogs, unsure whether to bark or attack. 

Link tried to calm both Purah and the Zora to no avail, his silent pleas for someone to pay attention going unheeded. Instead he masked his frustration, snatched the slate, and tidied up all the reference books Purah had pulled out of her collection on anatomy and the different biological structures of Hyrulian marine life, putting away some of the mess. Books had been helpful but ultimately there was only so much they could do with limited information on the Zora, and most of the treatment had worked purely on good guesses. Purah meanwhile continued to terrify their amphibious guest with an explanation of where he was and how he came to be there, as if she were explaining theology and ethics to a child. Slowly, calm settled back in.

Still, a wound like that would take a long time to heal, and Link had to avoid looking at it, or it’s owner, for that matter. Everytime he locked eyes with the Zora, they would both freeze for a moment, like a staredown between hunter and Stag. Red’s pupils would widen until Link was sure he was going to turn into that black-eyed feral river-God from before, and then they would stop, and wait.

His eyes were too bright to look at, swimming with gold and curiosity and likewise unable to look away from his every move. 

Link would rip his glance away and the Zora would go back to trying to snatch his sketchbook back off Purah, but he didn’t seem to want to get too close, which made for an awkward, painful dance that if he were in a better mood, would have been hilarious. 

Link eventually tapped her on the shoulder, and kept tapping until she took notice of him.

“Oh, do you want to look? You’re handsome in these drawings” She held out the tiny notebook and Link caught a glimpse of a sketch of a horse - it looked a lot like Epona but Link couldn’t be sure. The Zora’s pupils went back to being pinpricks in a sea of gold as Link eyed the book.

 _‘No, just give it back will you?’_ He frowned. _‘You can ask him questions by writing them down.’_

“Oh don’t be silly, he can talk! He’s just a bit shy.” Purah waved the book teasingly at them both. 

_Oh._

His oar came upon a hitch in the current as he bobbed in the surreal drift of time, and the reverie Link had been moored to, snapped. 

Of _course_ Red could fucking talk. Link had heard him _sing,_ for Hylia’s sake. He didn’t know why the news ran down him with such a thick swell of disappointment. He’d heard that the Zora could all speak Hylian, and clearly this one could read and write. There was no reason why a Deep Zora couldn’t either. His own stupidity was palpable.

“Ah, you’re probably right though. Here, Mister Zora, your book.” She handed it back and both her hands found their way onto her hips. “So tell us, since we’ve spent so much effort healing you, what’s your name? Why are you after him?--”

The poor thing looked close to overwhelmed as he looked between them. His long fingers clenched in nervous fists. Painfully, he struggled to his feet. Link looked up at him as he rose, rushing to his side to help him up without really thinking about it, nor able to contribute much. He took the book so slowly and gently, as though he was both scared of hurting her and that the whole thing was a setup. His gaze brushed at Link’s neck faintly.

 _Tall._ The Zora’s head scraped the low part of the ceiling as he straightened, the Tail that extended down the back of his skull was nearly as long as Link was on its own. He had to crane his neck to see him. The red of his scales reflected around the sunny room, resulting in a pleasant rose glow and made the white of the Zora’s chest scales gleam like opal. He wore nothing but the bandages, his body smooth and streamlined. Though his leg proportions were shorter than a Hylian by comparison, it did nothing to take away from his magnificence, and each muscle was defined and framed by brilliant fins cast in azure and gold. His expression seemed full of pain, embarrassment and sincerity. His gills flared and he coughed, as if trying to remember how to talk. 

Purah giggled in a way that made Link cringe. “My my, you are a specimen aren’t you?” 

The Zora bowed deeply, the top of his head showing off the pink scaled spots that Link had seen through the murky water before. When he stood back upright he wore an air of bravado through the wincing of pain from agitating his wounds that Link did not expect. 

“I...I apologise for the imposition. My name is Sidon.” 

Link’s heart sank, for his voice was low, poised and as handsome as the rest of him. It rolled like the calm tide over sunlit stones.

All the gifts they had exchanged at the silver sword, and the things they had told each other wordlessly. Now they were face to face and Link had no way to speak back. 

“And what are you doing here, Sidon? What were your intentions?”

He seemed to consider stiffly whether the truth was appropriate, “I apologise - this was not my plan, nobody is supposed to know I am here -- I was hoping to find someone who could help with the Divine Beast Vah Ruta, before all Hyrule floods...but...”

Link’s stomach joined his heart in trying to sink through the floor. And worse yet - he could see Purah shooting him a pointed look - Sidon had unknowingly found exactly the person he was looking for. He turned on his heel before either of them could see his expression and continued tidying. The silence behind him was thick, but he ignored it. 

Sidon spoke again, his breathing halting as his side stung. “I thank-- you for all of your help in…--with my wounds. Please--is there a way to repay you?” 

Purah hummed. “Well, not unless you're any good with a wire rig and snub-nosed pliers...or convincing certain people to go and actually do their job...”

They fell silent and Link felt eyes on him. He tidied harder.

A hand found his shoulder, too large to be Purah's. He snapped around putting a wayward book under his bad arm and the broom in his fist between them. The small of his back crushed up against the writing desk defensively. Sidon looked Link directly in the eyes and backed off sheepishly, his expression sincere, which made the muscles in Links chest hurt. “Please, young one, would you tell me your name?” 

He couldn’t hide his scowl as he turned to Purah, slumping in defeat and setting his defensive wall of cleaning utensils down so he could sign. _‘Can you explain for me?’_

The Zora-- _Sidon_ \-- watched his hands with an intent that Link found uncomfortable. 

The little scientist pouted and turned back to him. “His name is Linky! Oh, okay--it’s really Link. _Don’t frown at me like that - it’ll give you wrinkles_ , Linky. He can hear you just fine, his vocal chords are just damaged. He speaks with his hands instead.” 

“Link.” Sidon repeated excitedly, eyes owlishly wide. “I wish I had spoken to you sooner -- You are truly magnificent! Thank you so much for all your gifts Link, they were marvelous -- a-and you were fantastic! I saw you defeat all those Silver Bokoblins and those Guardians and---”

“You _what?_ ” Purah squawked. “You’ve been out _hunting_ **without telling me** _?!_ ”

The silence that bit through the lab fell like a stack of books. 

“Ah, I apologise, I didn’t mean to cause a rift but he’s really rather good at it you see--” Sidon flustered.

Purah’s glare was poisonous.

“I _know_ he’s good at it! I’ve been _trying_ to get him to go do just that for _weeks.”_ She stomped her foot, connecting with the floor so that the whole Laboratory shook with her anger. She glared at Link and stormed out the back door, Symin following whilst murmuring apologies at the two left behind.   
  
Sidon looked between the door and Link, who was glowering at some fixed point in space. 

“I am truly sorry - I---” He made to touch Link’s shoulder in apology and winced as pain shot up his side. 

The Hylian waved him off and eyed Sidon’s bandage in annoyance. He pointed at it, seeing that fresh blood had soaked through, and went to get the sheet they had been using. He ripped it into strips, angrily fighting with all the frayed threads that stuck to him. Sidon sat awkwardly cradling his side in silence, not wanting to inspire any more wrath but wishing to not appear rude. He didn’t understand the situation at all.

Link marched over to him and started unwinding his current dressings, doing a convincing job of looking furious despite giving Sidon a small but practical cuddle every time he passed the length of gauze around his back. He could barely connect his hands together around the girth of the Zora’s waist. Link tied off the wrap once he was done.

Now his hands were without work, his mind supplied the difference. 

He couldn’t look up, nor could he utter the words stuck in his mind, so instead he stood, averting his gaze to the blush-tinged glow of Sidon’s reflection on the walls. The quiet was as manifest as though there was another person in the room. Link followed the winding lines of the woodgrain in the floorboards and swallowed the shame that rose in his throat. 

He touched a finger to the Zora’s forearm, and wrote slowly. 

“S-O-R-R-Y? Whatever for?” Sidon said, befuddled. “I am the one causing trouble...and I was the one who bit you...though, I do not remember much beyond that...”

Link groaned and shook his head, his injured fingers were already healing up, and his elixirs were doing great work at making him completely pain free. Sidon wouldn’t understand without Link writing him a lengthy explanation. Instead the Hylain handed him a bottle of some verdant green liquid, making drinking motions, so the Zora popped the cork off and drank the entire concoction in one hit. 

“Ah, what is this? It feels tingly!” 

Link didn’t bother to respond to that either - perturbed by the Zora’s overwhelming trust in him, seemingly from nowhere - his frustration growing like an Octo balloon inside him. 

Instead he questioningly pointed to Sidon’s book. 

“Oh, my sketchbook? Do...you want to see it?” Link looked at him forlornly, and shook his head. It wasn’t what he’d meant, but writing it down would be a hassle. 

Instead he stole a piece of paper and an ink stick off the desk and paused. What was the thing to say? He’d messed it up last time. It was irritating that he could not speak words but even when writing them down, none of them seemed to be enough! He sneered at his own idiocy and scribbled, before holding it up to Sidon unthinkingly.

 _Thank You_.

If it weren't for the red Ghost...Link might not have survived the Yiga. Thanks was not enough, but it was the truest thing he could express right now.

Sidon took the page and stared at the words as though he were viewing a piece of fine art. 

“I do not know why you would thank me--your friend...I think I might have ruined that first impression--...well, I want to thank you, too.”

Link stared back at him for what felt like months, drowning in the rosy light of the Lab.

He took the top book from the pile on the floor and slowly began tidying again, though he could feel the golden gaze on his back, warming with the sunshine.

In minutes, the scratching on the reed-paper notebook became unbearable, and Link stood to meet Sidon's eyes, which were studying his profile intently. 

He looked between the book and the Zora, then to the Zora's wound, and decided he really didn't have it in him to complain about the artistic merits of his present company. Especially when such a large creature hunched over such a small notebook and pen looked at him with nothing short of honest wonder laid open across his face. 

The floor was clear of debris and the sun was setting before Link had calmed enough to try having another go at conversation. 

‘ _This is for the pain’_ Link wrote, before handing the Zora another green flask and showing him the writing. 

Sidon nodded and thanked him before downing the concoction without complaint. 

‘ _You were there when the Guardian attacked.’_

The Zora watched him write and nodded. 

“I did not know what to do. I could not reach you both in time so I took the boy back as fast as I could - somehow the Guardian was dead and you were alive when I got back. I was so sure you were…”

_‘D-e-a-d.’_

Sidon nodded quietly.

Link signed _‘Me too.’_

The huge creature looked at him excitedly, though he tried his best to pretend otherwise. 

“How in Hyrule did you kill it?”

 _‘Reflected it's blast back at it.’_ Link wrote.

Sidon's eyes became owlishly wide and he shifted forward. “I had never thought of that! -but...how?” his book clattered to the floor. Link bent to pick it up for him and for a brief moment he found the great Red Ghost staring down at him, so close he could see green flecks in the gold irises above him.

“Link...you...would you help the Zora? With Divine Beast Vah Ruta? I think...I think you could really…”

Link shuddered and Sidon let up quickly, so Link stood and offered the book back hurriedly, open on the page with which it had landed. 

His own image greeted him, and Link could not help but take a closer look. Sidon did not seem to mind too much, gazing unabashedly. 

It was the same ink-like staining and his image stared low at the table, summer light hitting him just so that the latter half of the page was made of swirling shadows, drawn like ripples emanating off his back. 

It was too strong and imposing a figure to be his, but the drawing enthralled him anyway. He tenderly shut the book and handed it back. 

“I wanted to apologise, I should not have drawn you without your consent first, but you did not seem to mind at the river” Link waved him and shook his head as though he didn’t care. “I am no great artist, but should you be interested in taking a look...? ” 

Link nodded, trying hard not to cringe at how bashful he seemed. 

He flipped to the first page - a sketch of a wildlands shrub with a bird in it, then the horse figure from the roof of the stables. Seaweed, river Thistles, Beautiful fish and anemones. Other Zora, a moose, then a wild boar and a collection of herbs. “Ah, I draw things that interest me... this one was by the riverside. There’s quite a few bokoblins and Lizalfos in here too - I was trying to understand all the different varieties. So many of them plague my home along with the Divine beast. Watching you helped with that...I--” He choked on his words as a drawing of Link flipped over on an opposing page. He was alone in the riverbank, stood straight and holding a sword loosely in one hand. It was rough but made Link look dignified in a way he rarely felt. Sidon turned to Link a little too abruptly, wincing as he did, trying to find words. The next four spreads were all of him, one where he knelt down with the boy, another with his back to the viewer in a fighting stance, one where he was asleep, and others, featuring Epona and wildlife, intermixed with more herbs and drawings of swords. 

Link felt alien from the imposing figure he cut in the pictures. He looked to the artist to try to understand.

“I-I apologise for following you. There is no excuse. It was not becoming of me. I had quite forgotten how many I drew of you...” 

Honestly, he didn’t find it as disturbing as he perhaps should, though he could barely lay eyes on the images of him, heroic as they looked, without cringing. 

Link ran his fingers shamefully over a sketch of a Korok perched merrily on top of a rock, ignoring his face rendered with the kind of dignity he did not feel. He wanted to tell Sidon so many things, but not being able to communicate on equal footing as they had at the riverbank made all his anger drain away and the vacuity seep back in. 

They reached the page in the book where Sidon had sketched Epona, and Link pressed on the page with his thumb, smiling at the likeness of his friend. He motioned to the drawing, and then pointed to the door. 

“Your horse? Outside? Oh! Would I like to meet it? Well...uh...I--...”

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and began again. “When I retrieved you from the river after the mishap with the Guardian, it--the horse-- charged me when I was trying to wake you up and greet you. Then, most every time after that it was there watching and unseemly as it is, I was a little...frightened. After that it just did not feel right introducing myself, especially since your horse-friend was so against it...so it is as you see now. I do not want to--” 

Link eyed him. He walked slowly to the window, holding his shoulder as it ached, and put his fingers between his lips. The whistle was shrill but the hoofbeats came soon and swiftly. 

“Are you sure that this is a good idea?” If fish could sweat, Sidon would look like a rainforest. 

The horse slowed and approached the window, her head pushing through the frame and a soft snort touselling Link’s hair as she snuffled at him. She did fix the Zora with a sideways stare, but Link clicked his tongue and pointed to Sidon, before signing something to Epona. She brayed, and Link repeated the gesture. Sidon was visibly close to losing his mind, pupils pinprick thin and every neck muscle craning away from the strange creature invading through the window, but not wanting to leave the Hylian’s side for his own safety. Link frowned and grabbed Sidon’s hand, moving the twice-his-size Zora forward until he was making a strangled yelp noise when the proximity got too close. 

With a soft snuff from the Horse, Link placed the webbed and clawed hand onto her snout gently. She immediately sneezed and Sidon leapt backwards across half the room as if electrified. He whined in pain, feeling his side jerk. 

Hylian and horse both seemed to stifle a bark of laughter. The Zora pouted, and tried again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late on replying to comments and late on posting this, please forgive me :,D 
> 
> At some point I may repost this fic with some chapters melded together and rewrite large chunks, I wrote this just to get back into writing and though it worked, you can tell I'm not doing so well with practicing my flow and pacing. I hope you guys enjoy it anyway<3 As always, let me know what you think, your comments, kudos and bookmarks all give me life. sloppylove<3.


	6. Somebody to You

“Take notes for me.” It was Purah’s first request. Apparently Link regularly wrote for her whilst Symin was out, but Link had gone before the dew was even on the grass, or a hint of daylight in the sky. Sidon felt oddly betrayed. He hadn't even given himself time to heal before leaving the Zora at the tiny Sheikah woman’s mercy, slipping out in the middle of the night.

He wondered if his sleepless watching of the Hylian, curled on the floor under the desk, had been too obvious or had scared him off?

The whole day, the Hylian was nowhere to be found, and Sidon’s hands ached with the pressure of holding a brush and feverish writing. The research topics were wild and varied, and Sidon was allowed to ask things during breaks. He asked all manner of questions about them, discovering, by way of Purah being a loud thinker, why she was so young but spoke like she was his age - _most of the time, anyway._

Symin regularly examined him, and with regret it seemed like Sidon’s side was not going to heal quickly. His ribs were cracked, and Sidon felt pain in his stomach where there should have been none. Internal bleeding was a possibility. 

Purah offhandedly taught him the sign for ‘hello’ and ‘how are you’, so that Sidon might be able to ask Link in his own words next time they met, should he be confident enough. With every hour that passed his courage waned. 

He lay awake at night, his side pulsing and his neck crooked. Zora slept in the water, and he was a fish out of it. Sleeping in the lake meant that the people of Hateno might see him, and so might those other Red Sheikah people, so he refrained - one stab wound was surely enough for him, but he longed for a comfortable sleep, his people, his home and his Hylian companion. And so he was at a standstill - loath was he to leave before being able to make it back to the Domain in one swim, and less happy was he to go without seeing his friend again. He wasn’t entirely sure if he should even call Link that, but the thought of not knowing made him shiver and his scales feel as though they had sand under them. He missed the water more under the influence of the hot itch.

“Where does he go?” 

You probably know that better than I do.” Purah pouted. 

  
  
Sidon loved the watchtower on the roof - to go out in the dead of night, dragging himself up the stairs outside the lab as quietly as he could, laid out before the calm of the town’s fires in the silk of the night made him feel warm. The height reminded him of the cliffs of home, sitting with his sister above the waterfalls and practicing his surge swimming.

He read books to occupy himself, mounds of them in a single sitting. Purah would ask him questions too.

“Sidon, why Link, of all the Hylians?” 

“I do not know. He took me by surprise.” Sidon mused. “The same could be said for you. No other people come up here, but the village is so close. Why only Link? Why do you want him to fight monsters that could kill him?”

“That’s a secret.” Purah grinned. “Much like how you and your home are secrets.” 

Sidon smiled. Purah winked at him cheekily. She kept to herself up on the cliffside, and even though she could be loud and obnoxious, she was far more clever and quirky. 

“Give me all the information you can on your Divine Beast” Was her second request. 

Sidon spoke of Mipha, the Champion of the Zora, right down the timeline until the present day filled with nothing but storm and rain, and their fish farms becoming unsustainable, their caves flooding and their food source dwindling. The Zora had long lives but this was something only a generation would be able to survive before the Zora would have to find a new place to live. The trouble was, Hyrule was far less habitable for the Zora since the calamity descended - the temperatures had risen, the weather was drier and the water was acidic. 

“So you are one of the few amongst your people that would likely survive.” Purah concluded, looking at his tail with a discerning eye. “Not great for the survival of the species, is it Prince?”

Sidon didn’t answer yes, only with mild panic at being so easily identified. “You won’t tell anyone...will you?” She grinned and shook her head. 

“It’s not exactly difficult to figure out, but I won’t tell. Not even Linky or Symin. Promise.”

She had made notes on each of the four mechanical monsters, and explained each at length to him. Sheikah technology truly was a marvel. Purah explained many intricacies of the history of Hyrule that he had not known, including the Sheikah sign language, which reminded him of ancient Zoran, before they had evolved to speak above water. She even talked of a brief meeting with Princess Zelda. 

Sidon wrote more for her, and tried to sketch features of the Divine Beast Vah Ruta as best he could. 

At night he longed for the domain. The air here was dry and he itched to swim. But there were books, and Sidon had nights of restlessness with which to occupy his hands. The Tenth night was quietest. His ribs were not aching as they had been, and Symin had cleared him of internal bleeding after consulting a very heavy medical textbook with references to the anatomy of many of the speaking species of Hyrule. They had stayed up, Symin and Purah discussing the intricacies of the Sheikah teleport system, with Sidon attentively listening and understanding not a word. They had eventually fallen asleep where they sat, and Sidon had gingerly laid covers over their shoulders before struggling open the doors to the laboratory to go to his favourite place on the roof. 

What met him instead was Link, lying on the glowing Sheikah circle, eyes blown wide and panting as though he’d just run a marathon. 

“Link! You--” Sidon knelt, jarring his injury in his haste. He looked Link up and down. The Hylian’s strange red rubber clothes were ripped, the left leg torn away and only the tatty remnants of a boot remaining. The skin underneath was blistered and red raw. His face was scratched and a bad welt glowed pink and angry on his temple. He lifted a hand and couldn’t sustain it. Instead he coughed, grey ash emerging from between his lips. 

“Link!--”

The Hylian waved him off almost instantly, struggling to his feet. He limped toward the door, and looked in to see Purah and Symin sleeping on their book-pillows. He pouted and sighed, a weak raspy cough escaping his lips. 

Instead, he sat on the stone step that led into the Lab and used a short sword to slice off what little remained of his strange fluted trousers. 

Sidon knelt and looked at his leg. “What caused it?” 

Link began to sign fervently, but Sidon could only give him an apologetically blank look. 

“Might I ask you to write it down?” Embarrassed don't cover the forlorn expression Sidon wore. 

Link stared at him blankly, before waving the matter away. 

Sidon frowned and showed him a flat rock and a stick of seaweed wrapped chalk _._

“You can write and then wipe away and write again on a clean slate. I hope you don’t think it too forward of me, but I wanted to talk to you more, and having Purah translate seemed a little...impersonal.” 

The Hylian’s mouth wearily hung open. Sidon eyed the injury the moment Link hesitantly took the pen. “So this must be a burn? And you don’t wish to wake the others to help? What on earth caused this?” 

Link shook his head _‘Don’t wake them. It’s my own fault. I ran out of talent whilst trying to dodge burning rocks.’_

He could tell Sidon was struggling to understand his scrawl, but Link was equally swallowing a lump in his throat. His hands felt heavy. 

“It is a wonder you are alive!” He stated, awed at such a wound. “Well, my people use several types of algae to deal with burns and dry scales, but I hear it has universal healing properties too. Perhaps we could try that? There’s some in the bottom of the lake.” 

_‘Anything is better than Purah’s wrath.’_ Link signed, wishing he could be understood. He stared at Sidon’s profile as he looked longingly toward the water, clearly not just wanting the algae. 

‘ _Swim?’_ He wrote, once more, on Sidon’s arm.

Sidon’s longing gaze whipped back into focus and he tried not to look too bashful or guilty. 

Link simply grinned and stood, and towards the lake they carefully hobbled. 

  
  


****

The plant matter that Sidon had robbed from the depths was refreshing and cool against Link’s skin. The Zora applied it gently, before Link swatted him away. 

_'Go and swim, you’re fidgeting like you have fleas.’_ He gestured to the water and made a swimming motion to get his point across.

“But--” Sidon protested weakly, as the Hylian snatched the gloop out of his hands and began applying it himself. 

A dollop of green slime landed squarely in the middle of Sidon’s chest in response when the Zora did not move, and Link smiled conspiratorially. 

When the Zora opened his mouth in shock, a second glob smacked onto the top of his head, sending droplets of Ooze out onto the dock. 

Sidon dove away as Link hurled the third handful at his shoulder, and the Ghost dashed through the water like an arrow through the skies. 

Link smiled and placed the last of the Algae that hadn’t been thrown on the back of his leg. The Zora rounded the island at the center of the lake with frightening speed, before leaping in a high moonstruck arc out of the water and landing with a purposeful splash beside the dock, washing off most of Link’s freshly applied slime. It was as though all his injuries had been forgotten -- Link laughed as below the water the Red Ghost stared up at him, the crown of his forehead shading his golden eyes such that they glowed. Link for the barest moment saw the teeth - brutal and sharp and split by a snarl, tiny bubbles gurgling from between his jaws. Blood red scales and tar black eyes. 

The memory felt as though it had been experienced by someone else entirely. It seemed so strange to associate such a… a _gentle_ person with something so primal. 

The Hylian leant over the side of the dock and pointed at Sidon. _‘Your eyes. Why were they black?’_ He wrote.

The red fin broke the water first and Sidon considered for a moment, still struggling with his breathing. Luckily it looked as though his wound was firmly closed now, and any pain was easily forgettable against the kiss of the water. 

“My mother was what you Hylians call Deep Zora - they live out in the deepest parts of the Ocean and are usually much larger and fiercer than other Zora. They hunt via smell and one might say they have a killer instinct. My father tells me I inherited some of her ferocity. It is a problematic side-effect of rage or smelling blood or flesh. I struggle to contain myself when it happens-- I...I wanted to say I am sorry for hurting you. Deep Zora heritage is no excuse, but, truth be told I can’t remember much - whatever I did I am truly sorry for.” 

Link considered that for a moment, putting his legs over the side of the dock and letting his toes tickle the water.

‘ _We’re alive, there’s no need to apologise.’_ He grinned, hands writing slowly across stone. _‘So does my leg smell edible to you right now?’_

Sidon paused, eyes concentrated on Link’s.

He realised the implication all at once, spluttering and shaking his head before hiding underwater whilst the Hylian cackled. 

“Well yes, like a fragrance” He eventually admitted, drawing up close. “But I have no desire to eat it. I swear I would never put you in danger intentionally. ...Would you allow me to ask you a question? I was wondering - why was that person in the mask trying to kill you?”

Link had to try to explain in the simplest terms, and had to spell out several words to help Sidon along. ‘ _They don’t like the Sheikah. I haven’t done anything wrong, they are just awful people.’_

“So because you help Purah, you are hunted?” 

He shrugged and nodded. _‘Something like that.’_

“Are you not afraid of them finding you here or that they might attack the townspeople, since they’ve followed you before?” 

_‘They don’t come near the Village anymore. There are guards and I've killed a lot of them here.’_

Sidon blew bubbles in thought, but seemed only mildly surprised at the idea of Link having murdered others. Link supposed the time to ask questions was now.

_‘How did you make it to this lake when you were hurt? It's so isolated.’_

Sidon floated on his back, chest open to the stars. “There used to be an underwater cavern, but I could not find it so I had to carry you from the river. Then I could not carry you so I dragged you, but the hill was too much - and then I saw the lake. I tried to use the algae but my wound was too deep, and so I tried to drag you the rest of the way up the hill, but Purah and Symin were there. I worry I might have been rude to them. I do not remember.”

Link signed _‘Thank you'_ as wholeheartedly as he could. 

“I think we made quite a good team you know. Taking down that mask person.” The Zora laughed, still a bit raspy from the hole in his side. He still wanted to ask Link to be the one to help the domain, though the more he thought about it the less sure he was that his motivations weren’t pure selfish curiosity. 

_‘How about a victory drink?_ ’ The Hylian wrote.

Sidon looked at him confusedly before Link began scrawling again. He rested his cheek in his hand once he had finished writing. _‘Do you want to see Hateno?’_

Sidon fists clenched with excitement, and then flattened with disappointment.

“I regret to say that I cannot.” 

Link cocked his head to one side and stared until Sidon returned the gaze, his eyes honest but his body knotted. 

“I do want to, but I...well I have been told to remain unseen while I travel alone. I... suppose it is a bit late for that, but now I have seen that man in the Mask, I understand why I was given such a command.”

Link merely nodded and didn’t push for more - the implication that Sidon had a home to return to and caring friends waiting for him shone a light on a future Link did not want to consider yet. 

“Do your family live in Hateno?” Sidon asked, the slope of his brow twitching. 

Link shook his head and shrugged, shuffling his chalk. _‘I don’t have any left. None that I remember, anyway.’_

“Ah, I am sorry.” Link waved him away. “Was it the Calamity, too?”

Link stared at his hands, clutching at his writing implements, ashamed that he didn’t actually know. 

Sidon mistook his shame for sorrow, and he placed a great hand upon Link’s with empathy and understanding lighting up his eyes. 

Link didn’t dare answer. It seemed like too much to explain everything, though he trusted Sidon enough that he could have told him. Perhaps there were truths he didn’t want to admit to himself just yet. 

_‘You? Your family?’_

Sidon cast his gaze down at the lake, seemingly in two minds. His torso stretched out of the water and Link felt tiny, his hands cradled in Sidon’s like eggs in a nest. 

“My father is still with us, but my mother and my sister...” He finally said, an air of bravery and hurt and pride infecting his voice. “Mother… I do not remember her. She died before the time of the calamity. My birth-- needless to say I am the reason she is no longer here. And Sister, well, she was a...soldier, and a healer, but she was too young to help mother. I think she always felt guilty about it, even though it could never have been her fault. It was one of the things that made her so kind. She fought in the great battle 100 years ago. I was but a hatchling then. But she was the strongest and most noble of us all. I remember her striking out of the water to rescue troops who had become landlocked. Those awful Lizalfos with their electricity - my sister was so swift! My people now recount it as a joyful miracle that not one of the soldiers died.” He looked at Link with conflicted eyes, the dark handsome rim of scales around them becoming watery. “Now our people suffer and I wish I could bring them the same joy. Try as I might, smiles cannot mend wounds like she could, nor bring families back together as she once did. Now our hatchlings are skinny - the fish are becoming rarer, and all we can do is hold our breath and wait to drown.” 

Link watched as Sidon smiled sadly, lips bitten in a tight line, and gills flared below the water. 

“I will continue to smile, but other than look for someone else to fix our problems, it is all I can do.”

Sidon looked up, finally, and choked.

“Link! What...why do you cry?” 

The Hylian sat helplessly, unable to conceive of the pain, a rim of hot tears gathering. He didn’t really know why he cried either. It was like a relic of his forgotten self. To hear of thin children and hopeless soldiers, and Sidon looking sad and honest where his people could not see him, and not knowing what his happy, forced smile for them looked like - it was all too much. The tears were simply a quiet admittance that he understood what it was to live two lives, to two different sets of expectations. 

He breathed quietly, letting the chalk and slate roll off this lap, and let his head fall against Sidon’s. The Zora looked taken aback, but held Link’s hands and let him rest there nonetheless. 

“Why do you cry, young one? Our times might be sad, but I believe in my people. We will find a way.” Sidon whispered, just the hint of doubt etched into his voice. “I want you to know that though I have asked you to help, I understand if you cannot. Bearing responsibility over anyone is the heaviest weight of all, and I-- _we_ would never ask you to take up that mantle normally. Please, make sure you do right by yourself.”

Link shook his head and frowned. Sidon looked confused, the pale scale upon his face glinted sadly in the moonlight. 

The truth was, as Link panted against tears, that nobody had considered in all of this business with the Calamity, that he might not want to be the savior of Hyrule. Sidon was the first and only person to treat it as a choice, and just the consideration was refreshing to Link’s tired soul. 

Sidon stared quietly, as Link leant his head on his crest. His eyes exploring Link’s face as though he was hanging on every hot puff of breath and twitch of his lips. 

Link clutched at his hands, drawing in a long breath and leaning, pressing his lips to the side of Sidon’s face, nestled below his crest and the fins that framed his stunned expression so beautifully. 

The kiss was longer than he meant it to be, and he pressed, desperate to convey his gratitude, Sidon’s breath tickling his ear, as though the air intake through his gills was not enough. 

When he finally, wistfully, pulled back, Sidon was aglow. His patches of pink scale were lit in warm sunspots, glowing contentedly from the inside. He looked bashful, or, Link might daresay, embarrassed. But still his scale glowed, and Link felt the lights wash over him pleasantly. He let go a hand, and traced the light across the Zora’s crests in fascination, his fingers and lips lit up in wonder. The Zora seemed to rumble pleasantly at the touch, and the little lights flared brighter. 

Of course, he’d seen the glow before - when he’d lost his sheikah slate, and ‘Red’ had been there to help him. The lights had already been on, then, and Link wondered what they meant. With a shivery huff, Sidon sunk low in the water, his head rested on his hands, still resolutely in Link’s lap, as if he was trying to hide his expression as Link traced the edges of his fins and watched his tail twitch in rapt wonder. 

Link smiled, and felt a blush creep up his ears as the warmth on his lap and the little breaths on his thigh tickled him. 

_“Together.”_ The same old voice whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late with replying to comments, sorry fam, I will get to you soon, thank you so much for all of them, they genuinely got me through last week. What a time to be alive @_@ 
> 
> I hope the shift in perspective from Link to Sidon as the focus character has flowed okay, I'm still feeling dumb about how quickly I wrote this, and, as always, it's not beta read :,D Please let me know what you think nonetheless, and thanks again for reading.


	7. All Good People

They had maintained that closeness, and Link sometimes felt as though he were imagining it - the magnetic pull that made him feel helpless and warm. But Purah and Symin were staring in a way that made Link shift uncomfortably, so as Sidon clutched his hand and used his other to trace the scar that wound up Link’s shoulder from their fight with the Yiga, hands full of antiseptic and kindness - knelt before him like he was praying at a Goddess statue - Link understood. They must have looked strange - Link very rarely let anyone touch him, certainly not to this extent, or with such familiarity. Purah, should she have been willing to show such displays of friendship, would have been able to, but her regard for Link as a champion often got between them. But Sidon knew only of his strength, not of his destiny - and with every soft trace of hand against skin, or side pressed to side, Link realised that he had missed it. Closeness. Familiarity. 

The longer he basked in the feeling, the more comfortable his silence became. Sidon spoke little and often, asking questions only when Link was prepared with chalk and slate to answer them. And Sidon took up Link’s note-taking duties without complaint, all so Link could read quietly. Mostly, he read the codexes Purah kept on the sheikah technology, and in the dead of night, when even Sidon was asleep, curled up next to him on the floor, Link read the notes they had made on the Divine beasts, on the other races and peoples of Hyrule, and of Zelda, the champions and his past life. 

He still felt at odds with it, but now it had started feeling closer, like he could reach out and touch the memories that shied away in the back of his mind. The names, though they had no faces with them, were familiar when he mouthed them to the dead of night. His hands did not remember their signs, but when he lifted them, he felt like they wanted to. Perhaps worse still, these feelings were no longer quite so unwanted - as he watched Sidon, his lithe form curled around his back in the candleglow, his lips twitching against a downy pillow and shoulders outlined in bare moonlight, he felt a kind of distant fondness that had not been present before - an appreciation for all else that had led up to this moment. 

The noise of Hateno was distant, yet boisterous, and it made Link smile involuntarily. He idly wondered, as he shuffled into Sidon’s warmth, what they were celebrating in the town below. 

It had crept up oh-so-slowly - responsibility. He remembered its touch as clear as daylight, but the bravery that he knew should accompany it was ingloriously missing. He listened to the chime of far-off voices - the weight of lives still felt backbreaking, and the shadow of Gannon loomed above. The trouble was, he had already seen Vah Rudania. His visit and subsequent injury at Death Mountain was both horrible and predictable. The beasts were large enough to house the populations that they terrorized comfortably, and Link could barely conceive of boarding one, let alone conquering one. He imagined the great hulking mass of Vah Medoh, casting a shadow over Hyrule, and the low, creeping form of Rudania hugging the lava flows. He had not yet seen Nabooris or Ruta, and had no real wish to. Yet when he imagined any of them, stalking upon the people here, it sent angry shivers up his spine. 

He groaned and shut the book, louder than he meant to, before stooping to blow out his reading candle. Sidon’s long fingers touched his face before his breath could return them to darkness. 

“Can’t sleep?” The Zora whispered, his eyes lidded, and neck craned uncomfortably. 

Link shook his head and smiled. Motioning out the window as an excuse for his overthinking. 

“Hateno is a loud place.” Sidon agreed. “Is there a particular Hylian custom for this noise? Am I...are we, I should say, keeping you from being with them?”

Link chuckled soundlessly, before wiping off the remnants of their earlier conversations from his slate. 

_‘Shall we go find out? You have nothing to fear in Hateno, not while you’re with me.’_ He wrote, sort of hopeful.

Sidon sat up, blinking away sleep, quietly tormented by his options. 

“I must admit, I am very curious. But I have been expressly asked to remain undiscovered.”

“ _A bit late for that”_ Link wrote, nudging into his side fondly.  
  
Sidon scratched at embarrassed scales, “Yes...by now...well...I should not make it worse.”

Link huffed, falsely and dramatically, and scrawled leisurely on his tablet. “ _Shame, I wanted to go get a drink and leave a note for my other penpals.”_

Sidon almost believed him for a heartbeat, but was won over even at the mention of false competition for Link’s attention. “You tease me! -- But are the Rito common here? Do you see many Zora? If we go, are you sure we will be safe? That I will not be a nuisance?” When Link shook his head in affirmative, writing sweet platitudes and safety plans, until Sidon looked almost convinced.

He considered a moment more. “Very well, but only as long as I might find a way to treat you for accompanying me, and perhaps we should simply go to look, rather than engage, so I can keep a shred of my promise...” Sidon’s voice was filled with such longing and vaguely cloaked enthusiasm that Link could only snort. 

**_“Let us go together”_ ** The voice whispered, and Link grinned, pulling Sidon up with him in response. 

  
  
****

  
  


A sharpened pitchfork was levelled with Sidon’s chest until Link waved the man down. They had entered through the gates of the village. They had walked the long way around, through the fields whilst trying not to scare the cows. Sidon had been difficult to wrangle away from warily watching the cattle, such was his fascination with tamed animals now he had met Epona properly and not been killed. They had crept over the fences, trying to circumvent any trouble or association with the Tech Lab, and stumbled straight into the gate guard.

“Wh-what in Hyrule’s name are you doin’, bringing a monster here?!” Thadd barked at Link angrily, trying to disguise shaking knees and his muscles bunching in fear. Sidon said nothing, but was instantly, very aware that Hateno had in fact been lacking in Zora visitors, and Link had never actually categorically told him so.

Link hurriedly signed something, spelling out ‘Z-O-R-A.’ 

‘Thadd’ lowered his weapon and looked at Sidon up and down, clearly very relieved.

“Greetings, I am a friend of Link, and he has offered to show me around your Town, if you would permit me entry.” He offered his hand to shake, now over the threshold and well into the inner sanctum of oathbreaking.

Thadd’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, and after a moment of uncomfortable processing, shook the offered hand. “Well I guess you’re not a monster then if ya can talk. Sure fooled me. You here to trade?” 

Link nodded in the affirmative before Sidon could answer himself. Link also made a drinking motion and pointed somewhere to the back of the Town. 

Thadd gave them information - mainly for Sidon’s benefit. The Zora took in everything like a sponge, and when Thadd had sent them on their way, Sidon shook his hand so enthusiastically Link was sure he'd pull it right off. 

The usual sleepy demeanour of the town was replaced with a chatter that belied celebration. The shop doors were thrown open with the fires from hearths spilling out onto the street, and the night was warm and pleasant. 

Link took him between each store so that Sidon might meet the people of Hateno and ogle the wares within. He struggled sometimes to get through doorways and had to stoop inside. Despite his size and potentially threatening appearance, the way he viewed everything with childish wonder and bumbled through gracefully seemed to land him on the right side of the people's goodwill. Even the usually shy clothing and armour provisioner was loosened by his excitability and glee. 

“What kind of metal is it made from? How do you achieve this woven effect? Are jewels of this colour common here? Do you have anything that would fit me? Is that a type of mushroom? This is the largest bird feather I've ever seen that's not been attached to a Rito!” 

Link laughed with his eagerness often, and spent more on their trip than he should. Sidon tried one of everything in the food shop, milk still running down his chest as he held the overlarge black feather from the tailors like it was the greatest treasure in the world. Hateno’s cucco’s didn’t much care for Sidon’s fascination either, and Link couldn’t watch his wide eyed pursuit without nearly dying of the giggles. They walked down the street and children started at them out the window. When the Zora noticed them he would salute them with a shiny grin and his hand held over his heart - something of a signature for Sidon. They either retreated in fear, or waved and laughed along with him, crashing down stairs whilst still in pyjamas to see him up close. 

The dye shop held no particular interest for Link usually, but naturally his companion was fascinated. Just to sate his curiosity, he removed his shirt and let Sidon try dying it using a few rocks and ingredients Link had in his back pockets. With aplomb, Links’ shirt was stained the most lurid cherry red imaginable, and Sidon apologised, immediately realising he had not considered that Link might have to actually _wear_ the garment again after the process was complete. Link waved him off and donned the shirt anyway. Red wasn't his colour, but most of his clothes were brown with mud so the change would be welcome. 

By now a crowd had gathered to see the huge elegant Zora making his way through town. Link who was well known, and had been accepted here more than anywhere, who was usually left to get on with his life, was asked quiet question after question about Sidon, leaving him stumbling and mouthing simply to try and get a point across. Soon however, a child asked the towering Red Ghost “Did you get dyed by the dye man too, Mr Tall?”

Sidon immediately knelt, and Link could hear half the town holding its breath. 

“Of course! What do you think of my choice? I got Link to match me!” 

“I like it, but I don't think the bandage looks nice.” the girl said decisively, gesturing to his torso. She reached up for him to carry her, but Sidon stood and offered her his hand instead. She immediately cooed and studied the webs between his fingers, and the translucent bold colours of his fins. 

After that, the whole town was asking him questions directly. The crowd grew, a hundred awed faces joining in with the social. After a while Sidon's eyes searched frantically for Link, finding him with a pair of gargantuan mugs, smiling off to the side. 

“Link! What is that?” The Zora asked.

“That's ale m'boy! Give it a swig.” The man next to Link said cheekily, handing the mute two sugared apples, after Link had gifted Sidon his drink.

“S’ on the house, not every week that yer daughter gets married!” Link nodded his thanks. And gave the treats to Sidon, before picking up his own drink. 

“Where is the happy couple?” Sidon asked enthusiastically, looking down at all the cheery faces.

“My little girl, Juney, got hitched yesterday and her an’ my new son-in-law gone on honeymoon to Rito Village.”

“Ah! Congratulations! I have never been to see the Rito myself, but I’m sure they will have a most excellent time there. How do you all celebrate a wedding usually?”

“By getting squiffy an’ dancin’” 

The old man clacked his glass against Links and both of them drank with gusto. Sidon eyed the liquid and sipped in wonder. His face contorted oddly, but he gave no complaint.

“You never tried it before?” the Old man gestured. 

“Not ale, no, though I have tried a little Rum. I regret to say I do not see the appeal, alcohol has yet to have any significant sway over me and the taste is...well...” Sidon grinned sheepishly. Link and the Old man shared a look, before laying out more cups. Soon, they were drinking examples of various alcohols out of tidy glasses, each brewed differently with all the different kinds of fruit and grains imaginable. Sidon watched as Link downed a cup of Cider in a few gulps, happily burping and going back for another. Sidon discovered that he still didn't particularly like the taste of most of them, and wondered why the Hylians prized it so highly, until, after his fifth or sixth or---ninth, perhaps-- oversized cup, the happiest of fuzzy feelings smothered him. 

Link laughed as Sidon tried to explain what Beamwine was, and tripped over his tongue in the process. 

“Link, Can we do the dye to a cow? I think they'd like me more if they were red too~!”

He just giggled at him

“Or maybe dye me? Will Epona like me then?”

Link shook his head, smiling, signing something to the Old Man.

“You understand the hand words?” Sidon slurred, pitching forward without meaning to. 

“Not really, I know a bit. But he's a good lad and I really should make more o’ an effort.” 

Link looked between them both, a quiet, shy grin breaking over him. 

“Teach me.” Sidon demanded, hitting the table harder that he was supposed to. “How do you say “cow”?” 

Link chucked and made a sign using his middle fingers. 

“COW.” Sidon announced loudly, showing the sign around to all the other drinkers.

Link fell off his seat shaking, and the Old man roared with laughter.

“I think ‘e’s just made a fool of ya!” A smart-witted stablehand laughed at Sidon.

“What? What does it mean?!?” Sidon pouted, slumping over in dazed embarrassment.

Prima leant over and whispered to him, and Link gasped down air as the white part of Sidon's face grew nearly as red as the rest of him, and the little blush lights that Link had seen before flared brightly. 

“LINK, that is so- that's so rude!! I am so sorry, I-I…”

Sidon then insisted on bowing and apologising to everyone he'd just accidentally sworn at, though none of them seemed even remotely offended. A couple of people joined in the fun by insisting he drink with them as part of the apology. In the end, Sidon was so well lubricated that his fins were twitching. 

“So ‘ow do ya know big red ‘ere?” The old Hylian asked, touching shoulders with Link as they sat cooking sweet apples in companionable silence. Sidon stumbled to the next victims of his prostrations. 

Link signed as simply as he could for the old man Leop’s benefit. “ _We helped each other out with not dying.”_

“Wow, I bet that's a helluva story.” he grinned, “Hey! Big Red, come tell us ‘ow you met Link ‘ere.” 

Link tensed, dreading what Sidon would say as he reeled, walked towards them and explained bombastically, so everyone could hear, even over the music of the band. 

“There was a huge spider!! And Link fought it like--” Sidon made some well practiced fencing movements, snatching a soup ladle and parrying invisible Guardian legs. “Then BANG! Winner! I helped him out the river and his horse tried to kill me, but then there was this thing and a lake and an evil man without a face and--” Sidon lost his train of thought halfway through.

“No worries, I think it’s easier if Link explains it.” Leop guffawed. In such a short time, Sidon had won over a town’s worth of people. Link was loath to admit his envy. “Were ‘er really a giant spider?” He continued chortling. Link nodded and laughed to himself, turning an apple over. 

In the space of an evening, they'd taught Sidon about Hylian drink, and then how to play cards, which he was terrible at, and he'd been allowed to look closely at Hylian ears and hair, both of which fascinated him. Manny, the stablehand looked on in blatant jealousy as Sidon inspected the upper curve of Prima's ear and gently ran a finger through her hair as she giggled with her friends. 

“Link has sof'test hair. I know. I touched it.” Sidon slurred. Prima seemed to take that as a sort of challenge. Link wordlessly pleaded with the Old man to save him as Sidon dragged him before the girls and made him undo his leather hair-tie. Within seconds, five pairs of hands were stroking through his thick locks, some cooing and some appreciative or feeling the waves of their own hair for reference.

“What do you put on it? It is soft! I bet it's nice to brush.”

Sidon puffed his chest out “I told you it was the best soft!”

Link looked up at him, and wondered when the Zora with the glowing blush and daft expression had touched his hair like this before. The night on Lake Hylia came back to him, going to sleep cold and unprepared - to waking up rested in a makeshift bed, courtesy of ‘Red’. 

Link smiled, thankful. 

One of the girls produced a comb, and Sidon was determined he was going to have a go at brushing hair - each wince of pain Link produced had most of the population of Hateno in stitches as a very drunk Zora hung off him like a fat apple on a fruit tree.

As they laughed, the music in the background picked up in tempo.

The band, which mainly consisted of the old who were ready to party but too old to dance, were playing percussion on old cooking pots with sticks, led by one or two more skilled musicians - reed flutes, pipes, and odd stringed instruments were well loved and highly coveted. Link sometimes joined in, his fingers finding the feel of a simple flute in his hands particularly comfortable, but more regularly he was asked to dance by the young women, and even more regularly, by the spirited older ones. 

As one particularly motherly woman came and brushed Sidon’s hands away from Link’s head, and several of the townspeople paired off to form two familiar columns, Leop drew next to Sidon, happily tapping his foot. 

“You ever seen a folk dance, friend?” He made the sign for dance as he said it, and Sidon copied without much thinking, and shaking his head in reply.

“No, not Hylian ones, only ballroom - how do you do it?”

“Watch. You better learn fast cuz they don’t let newcomers alone for very long before you get pulled up yourself.” 

Sidon laughed, and watched as Link, who was manhandled by a pretty girl with sweet ginger curls, turned to the side, joining hands with his partner and hopping to the beat sideways, swooping under the held up arms of the couple in front, along with a dozen other couples. It was a merry, inelegant sort of thing, but it looked like fun, and was often punctuated by loud whoops or cheers from onlookers, as the dancers made particularly complex looking footwork or flourishes. Sidon very quickly found himself bopping along to the loud clang of sticks on cookware and laughing breathlessly. 

Leop was right - it took but one song for Sidon to be pulled unceremoniously by the hand into the scrum of dancers, and expected to learn the steps on the fly. To hold anyone’s hand in the way the dance required he had to stoop and his partner had to dance on tiptoes, which made all the onlookers roar with laughter as he twirled each of his companions haphazardly through the little steps. He laughed at his own silliness, enjoying the cheers and the buzz of alcohol thoroughly. 

Link, as he partnered with Prima, shot him a mischievous grin, and swapped the hand he held hers in, clapping his thigh at the band. They looked up and immediately begin to play faster, leaving Sidon seeing nothing but stars and a swirl of giggling faces. He felt himself chortle and when the dance required they change, he got revenge by sweeping Link up into a bad amalgam of the dance hold, half-carrying him, half puppeteering him around the space as they both roared with laughter. Between dances, it seemed to be tradition to chug a drink as fast as possible and go straight back in for the next, so Sidon, in earnest commitment to the sport, did as he was bid, slowly getting more daft with each turn. 

Eventually, his legs and lungs burned with exertion, and his face hurt with smiling. He was offered a light drink, water this time, and looked up to gratefully find Link offering it, both of them panting and grinning like idiots. 

“That was more fun than it had any right to be,” Sidon laughed loudly, feeling the hum of pleasure light up his scales. 

Link leaned over and signed something to Leop, before turning back to Sidon. 

_‘One more song left’_ He mouthed, holding an index finger up. 

Sidon nodded eagerly, watching the rest of the Hylians reorder themselves to start the dance. Curiously, only the male Hylains were left in the dance area. 

Leop shuffled over, taking the drink from Sidon’s hand. “Ladies choice was the first song. Now the men get to choose their partners. You just gotta choose who you enjoyed dancing with the most from the other dances and pick them as your partner.”

Sidon immediately held a hand out to Link, who looked at him like he was insane. Sidon saw Leop start chuckling uncontrollably, and several of the girls were struck by a pouting disappointment. 

“Ah, did I do something wrong?” Sidon asked, watching a flushed tinge seep across Link’s cheeks and ears. 

Leop laughed harder and pushed them both out into the crowd of newly formed couples, all of the current paired dancers joined hands in a chain, skimming the beat in a merry trot, round in a circle, until there were enough people to form two circles, and the whole village seemed to be amongst the whirlpool. 

The steps stopped, before the music lilted, and Sidon watched as Link stepped away and back in close, his blush making his eyes seem bluer and more nervous. Sidon twirled him, as the other dancers had with their partners, and then realised the difference in couples. 

The majority of them were made up of male and female pairs, though they were not the only exception. Leop had laughed because this was a _courtship_ dance. 

Sidon immediately felt his scales glow their light pink, and Link stepped away and stepped in again, laughing at Sidon’s flustered realisation. Link, despite his own clear embarrassment, didn’t shy away at all, and twirled under Sidon’s arm as the outer ring of dancers continued their light tiptoe around them. 

His head swam as they spun with foggy relish - dancing with Link was far easier - the Hylian was flexible, and though not the tallest there, was willing to stretch higher so Sidon did not have to stoop. Sidon thanked him for the consideration by lifting his beautiful Hylian lightly into the air on occasion, adding a flourish to a dance that already felt too rowdy and energetic. 

Everything in him ached and thrummed to each beat and step of the drum. Link stared, both of them panting and trying to outpace the other, mad smiles gracing their faces. Sidon stumbled on occasion, but the dance was repetitive, until without warning, the pace of the music picked up, and Link let go of him entirely, skipping away to join hands with another, looping through the circle of people as Sidon was grabbed and pulled in the opposite direction around the circle, skipping between rosy smiles and bright laughter. 

Until suddenly he was back in Link’s hold, and this time the pace was furious, spinning around the peripheral of the inner circle until Sidon could see nothing clearly but Link.

He barely noticed it finishing, by the time they came to a sudden, breathless halt. 

The entire village cheered, all clapping at one another’s efforts, but Link and Sidon did not, still caught up in each others’ avid stares and the tornado of the moment.

Eventually, he let go, and Link politely finished the applause as the townsfolk peeled off to drink more, or to find a place to rest their heads. 

Leop waved them goodnight, and as the women one by one shook his hand and patted him on the elbow, Sidon had to force himself to have patience and not remain preoccupied with the collar open along Link’s neck, who was pretending not to notice his stares with limited, glancing success. 

Once they were alone, quietly making their way up the hill, Sidon’s hand once more in Link’s, he giggled, unable to stop at the sight of the little pink flush that still laid along the top of the Hylian’s ears. The music rang in his head like a friendly spirit, and he hummed the tune of the playful violin whilst tapping out footwork that made Link laugh in earnest. 

“You were right. There was truly nothing to fear whilst I was with you.” Sidon slurred, knowing that he was likely glowing as bright as the village fire and resolutely found himself uncaring. “You know, my side only hurt a little the whole night!”

Link turned mirthfully, half skipping and half pulling him up the road toward the windmill. He pointed at his shoulder, and then made a drinking motion and a thumbs up. 

“Oh, yes, the ale makes it painless! We will both be a sorry state in the morning. What shall we tell Purah?” 

Link quickly waved the question away, stopping to swipe a low hanging apple from a roadside tree, which Sidon imitated, gifting his swiped apple drunkenly to Link. He smiled and accepted it, biting into Sidon’s gift and glancing up at him, and forgetting his own. 

“Can I touch you?” Sidon asked, beer and bravery coursing through his veins. 

Link paused, walking backwards to gaze at him, and squeezing his hand harder as if to remind them they already were touching. They staggered, half dancing even still, reaching the dark shape of a hillside house. And Sidon recognised it, suddenly sure that they were headed towards the lake, not the Lab. The water looked inviting, but his gut churned, unable to leave Link’s side for fear that he would simply dance away forever.

As if sensing his indecision, Link tugged his hand and they snuck by the house, sniggering and shushing each other to be quieter until they stood on the dock. The water was glass-still, a perfect reflection of the moon shimmering brightly across its surface, Link walked ahead of him until his golden hair was haloed in silver. He was not one to believe in blessings, but whoever saw fit to grace him with a night and company such as this, could only be out to make a believer of him. Link took his apple quietly to his lips, as if daring Sidon to take a bite too. 

Sidon knelt, as close as he dared, until he could see sun spots across Link’s cheeks and the Hylian wondered at him. “Then, can I hold you?” 

Link stilled, finishing his bite of the apple, the juice painting his lips with a pleasant sheen in the velvety night. His eyes looked lit by stars, as the reflection of Sidon’s luminescence spots glowed within them. 

Link nodded, the smallest glances betraying something exciting.

Sidon did not wait, stooping, whilst a drunken hand, gently enclosed the Hylian across his waist and shoulders, the other moving their linked hands between them until he could feel the thrum of blood through their veins, and they shook with the beating of it. The music plagued him still, as if it were playing through their bloodstream. He knelt, oh-so-softly, feeling the warrior’s knuckles brush his abdomen.

Link did not look away, his shoulders heaving and sinking, and Sidon felt relief roam down them both.

His head leant over Link, all of his breath catching in his throat as he looked at the little red tip of Link’s ear, heat emanating from them in the dark. With the hand wound around Link’s back, he traced the shell of it, feeling the Hylian shudder against him in response. 

Sidon gently pulled away, still holding him, enough for them to look at each other. Should anyone have been willing, they could have played his heartstrings like a harp, his entire being thrumming with a chord so deep his legs shook. 

The thunderous pulse between them was not his alone, and as he stared at Link’s chest, the Hylian’s eyes shot wide, and his grip on the apple and on Sidon’s hand between them tightened. His flush was dark and his skin hued in white and blue with the moonlight, and Sidon whispered, hoping that he had not pushed too far.

“Link...can I kiss yo--?”

Lips were ready to greet his before he had even finished his breath, and the touch was eager but light, like a tiptoe into water. Sidon held his breath against Link like the moment would break with only the barest touch. 

Link drew back almost instantly, worry colouring his features. Sidon sighed into him, nearly following his retreat, his hand in blonde hair, his gills flaring and the warmth blooming up his neck and into his face. Links eyes glowed blue in inviting surprise, breath shallow and shuddering. He stared barely a heartbeat more, unable to stay himself. 

Sidon brushed their lips together, his free hand curling up the small of Links back, lifting him into the kiss, and Link held tighter onto his hand, dropping the apple so the Hylian could press their bodies flush, his grip transferring from fruit to face, Sidon’s scales superheating under him. 

It was both gentle and searing. Sidon pulled back, his eyes lidded and fingers still soft against Link’s back. He sighed, blissfully.

“No matter the Divine Beast or the state of Hyrule - will you visit me in Zora’s domain?” His eyes fluttered languidly, “There is so much I want to tell you - to share with you. Would you be willing to share your history with me too?” 

Link jarred away almost immediately, eyes wide and sobering from the drunken haze. His breath caught behind his lips and his pupils were pinpricks, knuckles clenched in panic. 

Sidon tried to reach for him, the void where he had just been lingered with wasted warmth.

All the colour seemed to drain from his face.

“Link?!” 

The Hylian jerked his head and deflected Sidon’s hand away. The air left between his fingers felt cold and clammy.

Sidon’s gills flared with held breath, as Link hurriedly shook his head and turned him down. 

  
  


****

  
  


Link was gone in the morning, as the obnoxious sun stared into the back of Sidon’s brain as he tried to open his eyes, and Purah was cursing that the Hylian had even been there. Sidon began to doubt his presence outside of his own imagination too, wondering how he could have moved with even half the headache Sidon currently nursed. He swore under his breath and blearily went swimming, trying to squeeze the blue eyes bathed in moonlight and soft hands across his face out from behind his eyes. He hunted through his memory, but could find no obvious answer as to how he’d upset such a spectacular moment. So stupid, so forward; he must have been terrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I think I may have lied when it comes to the length of this fic. I wrote another fic that I'm likely going to frankenstien into this one, since it's got a lot of elements that are good but so much extra bumph in it that is just a bit boring and unnecessary. As such, chapter updates may take a while longer since there's going to be a few seams I have to join together neatly. You'll probably be able to tell in the coming chapters, but also the ideas are kinda too good to pass up. Half of it all came from a recent replay of BOTW, the other half from just needing more fluff and feels to torture myself with :,D 
> 
> Either way, I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you for your comments, Kudos and bookmarks, and as always, big love<3 I'll answer comments now, I swear ahaha


	8. Believe In Me

Eventually, Sidon ran out of excuses to stay. He had been missing from the Domain for three weeks - and though it was not the longest he had stayed away, every day he stayed the higher the chances of his kingdom coming looking for him became. He took notes, learned a little more sign, asked to borrow some books from Purah, and waited. 

It began to feel, more and more, like it was all a regrettable mistake. 

His friend had been gone all that time, and Sidon could only assume that he had scared him off. Lingering lips still taunted him, and the night was abjectly lonely looking down at Hateno. Purah had remained stalwart on giving out any more information in regards to Link, and she really didn’t seem to know his whereabouts any more than Sidon did. 

So when Link did come back, a few scant hours after Sidon had finally convinced himself to leave, he had to restrain himself from joining Purah, who fell on him in nagging relief. 

“What have you done to your hair?!” Purah observed, poking at the missing clump that usually hung next to his left ear. He frowned tiredly in response and limped by both of them, a barrage of questions firing off at his back as Symin rolled his eyes and ignored them for his tea. 

All Link did was collapse into the desk chair, his gaze trained on anything but Sidon, before regarding the Divine Beast research on it darkly. He roughly grabbed the pencil and looked ready to scribble out all the information they had spent so long collecting. 

“Are you hurt?! Linky! Look at me! Where have you been? I am your elder you know! I have the right to kn--!!”

With a quick flick of his wrist, Link drew a sweeping line across the bottom of the Vah Rudania research. Purah fell immediately silent, lip bunching, shoulders tense and tears welling up behind the rims of her glasses. Link placed the pencil down slowly, purposefully, unable to make eye contact. 

“ _Really?_ How--could you--?” Purah asked, in a broken whisper.

The moment halted.

Sidon could hear their heartbeats, and waited for Purah to explode or cry from their research being defaced and Link’s cold behaviour. Link looked at her and nodded, something damp and sorrowful about his eyes.

She took a long, harsh, shaky breath, before turning on her heel and marching out the door, her boots thumping up the stairs, and coming to stop where Sidon assumed the Telescope was above.

There was no screaming, no shouts or fits of rage as Sidon was expecting, just Link’s tired sigh. He smiled weakly at Sidon. 

_‘Can we get more of that algae?’_ He wrote. 

Sidon, wide-eyed and bewildered, nodded, and they quietly slipped from the lab and down to the lake.

  
  


****

  
  


The wounds were just as bad as last time, but now Link seemed to be able to bear them as though they were normal for him. The blister across his leg was practically glowing with heat, and his fingers on his right hand didn’t look right. Sidon tried not to watch as the Hylian winced and wrenched them back into some semblance of normalcy. 

Sidon swam, though his joy was muted this time. Something in the air was heavy and he had so many questions. 

When he got back to the dock, Link’s gaze was hard and the inkstone was full of writing. 

_‘I’m going on another journey. It will take a while. Longer than this time. I don’t know how long it will be. Go back to your people.”_ When Sidon could not hide the shade of disappointment in his eyes, Link wrote, _“_ **_Maybe_ ** _I will help you.’_

Sidon was instantly buoyed, “Link, thank you! I cannot imagine a better Hylian to-- Ah, I am getting ahead of myself again-- perhaps there’s a few things I should tell you first--”

As Sidon looked up at Link in enraptured bewilderment, forgetting his train of thought, the Hylian removed layers of his armour until his wrists were bare, and Sidon’s algae was applied to all the cuts across his fingers and on his elbow and forearm-- the thoughts of Princehood and confession fell out of his head. Sidon caressed the raw skin with all the gentleness he possessed when Link was too rough with his own injuries. Sidon reached, mid pet, to sweep the hair from Link’s face who sat in a contemplative silence.

Link ripped his hands away like he’d been burnt. Sidon’s gills hitched as he was studied, the Hylian leaning back away from him and _very_ wary. 

“Link! --I--I am---I am so _sorry_ \-- did I hurt you? ...I have much to apologise for, it seems. The other night-- I shall not do anything to make you uncomfortable again, I apologise, but please, you must tell me what I did wrong.” He pulled away, nail catching on the tunic sleeve. 

Link grabbed at it, friendzied hands pulling, but it was a little too late - Sidon had seen the angry tear at his neck, obscured by the edge of his tunic that belied a truly severe wound - on _top_ of the older, scabbed wounds from the Yiga Sword and Sidon’s bite. Clustered, burning and raw next to the divots his teeth made in his neck - There was _more_ than one - and then Sidon was finally noticing the burn marks everywhere - under the hems of his clothes, welts on the tips of his ears, the curve of his jaw, the crook of his elbow. 

Sidon gasped desperately. “You have so many burns! How are you walking?”

Link did not look at him, instead flushing a deep red, wincing and clutching his shoulder. He shook his head frustratedly. 

“We must get you some help! You must be in agony!” 

Link shook his head violently and scribbled on the slate.

‘ _It doesn’t matter.’_

“But--!” Sidon surged upwards out of the water, rising with panic.

Link blocked him with a sharp elbow against his chest, breath coming in wounded gasps. 

Sidon stilled, mortified.

He lowered himself slowly, accompanied by the soft drip of the water and bated breath. Link rose to his feet as he sank, boots scraping the dock. Link fidgeted quietly, trying to hide the urge to run. Sidon’s eyes swept across him, trying to decipher an expression that looked some way between embarrassed and anxious. 

“I did not mean to make you feel--I simply wanted to help. Might I help you? Now or on your...journey?” Sidon breathed, watching as Link’s fingers gripped at his slate for a response. Avoiding thinking about their inevitable separation was a comfort.

‘ _Just...commit your good wishes down the river again. To the sword on the bank. That’s all I want you to do.’_ Said the slate, as Link left it in his hands, giving a strange cropped bow and backing away slowly, looking at his shoes. 

Sidon blinked. He couldn’t find the words, and watched as Link marched off in double time. He said it wasn’t important, but Sidon could see his face was a heated, shameful red and his shoulders were just as tensely bunched around his ears as their last night on the lake. He didn’t understand, what was that reaction for? Had he been too forward? Misunderstood Link’s intentions again? They had held each other so closely! He could still feel the flicker of a warm kiss across his lips.

Sidon sank to the bottom of the lake long after Link had disappeared from view, and screamed into the cold silence of the lake in frustration. He clawed at his memory until all he could think of were horrible imaginary spectres of unreal worries. 

Upon his return Link was gone, as was to be expected - before Sidon could say a word. All that was left was a badly scrawled picture of the Sword in the riverbank - their old meeting place and delivery point. Sidon got the implication. It would be better if they didn’t see each other, but if communication was necessary, then this was the method. It gave him little relief from his earlier discontent. 

The following morning the Prince thanked Purah profusely and left, promising to write whilst quietly wishing for the happiness of their welcoming doorway and Link’s company again. 

  
  
  


***

  
  


It was unseasonably muggy for autumn, and Sidon emerged from the lukewarm river, pelted by rain, his bag feeling heavy and cumbersome. He’d left his sword and armour at the Domain again. His father had been worried, verging on angry, upon his return, pressing him for details of his unknown journey. When he gave the King none, mostly out of abject shame, his father had banned him from leaving except to train. 

The trouble with that was it was harder than ever to train. The rain and the storms and the flooding kept getting worse. 

So much to Sidon’s muted pleasure they were allowed further from the training grounds than normal. He had been assigned his usual combat unit, and asked them to help him make a quick trip out of the Domain on a political delivery. He pleaded with Bazz (who was supposed to report back to his father) to turn the other cheek for a few hours. He had told them that he might have found a capable Hylian who could help them. It wasn’t _exactly_ false.

Of course, he had felt bad about asking his men to lie for him, but whilst he journeyed, they waited at the entrance to the domain, both training and on the lookout for Hylians who might help their excessive rain problem. Two fish with one harpoon. 

Sidon was both jubilant and dreadful, swimming as fast as he could downstream until he reached the bank. The sword was still there. And so was a present, warm in the afternoon sun. Just a tiny wicker man, that Sidon realised was supposed to be him - it was stained reddish pink with traces of flower petals and the face was a considered mess of grasses, folded into sharp teeth and large eyes. It made him feel sick to look at the fangs. And so he worried harder. Would Link even come back to the sword? 

Either way, now was his chance.

Sidon laid the letter in the hollow, along with a small sack. 

_Dear Young One,_

_Should there be any favour you wish to ask of me -- anything at all - do not hesitate. I will not stay in your presence longer than you are comfortable with._

_I do not know if you will come to the Domain - I do not blame you should you decide not to - but should you, I will not be able to greet you as an acquaintance or friend. Forgive me for the lack of explanation, perhaps if you care to hear the particulars of the situation I will explain them when we meet again in private. I find myself in a peculiar scenario with which I hope you forgive anything I might say for the sake of appearances in front of others._

_Please stay safe on your journey. I have included some riverweed bandages soaked in algae. There’s a few arrows, blades and some fish jerky. I hope it helps. Good luck with all your endeavours, my wishes are with you as you asked, they would still be with you even if you had not._   
  


Sidon sank back into the water and eyed the sword. The letter was perhaps too cloying and obsequios, but there was no adequate language that could express his real feelings, and he could not divulge his own reasons for estrangement, nor his true identity in the letter lest someone other than Link find it. Perhaps Link would understand. Perhaps he would not. 

Sidon returned to the sword every day, sometimes sneaking out, sometimes whilst he was supposed to be training. Douma eventually asked him where he was going, and when he could give no answer, she said; “Is it a deep sea Zora? Are you in love?”

Sidon boggled, and didn’t answer, since he had a different response to both questions. He supposed it made sense that he and his father would be interested in similar partners from Douma’s perspective. With all the time that Sidon had been spending away, it was only natural to assume he had a lover. The truth though - A Hylian, and a one sided crush - would be more unforgivable. Sidon was sure that his people would never believe that his travels were all just for a friendship. Which of course, Sidon wasn’t entirely sure of either. 

Though his package had been eventually collected, the sword held no response. He began to worry his letter had been received by the wrong creature. 

Then, the day came, where his windpipe knotted in his throat, when he saw his letter being collected by a blonde swordsman, his figure obscured by water, and when he went to greet Link, he rose up so quickly that he did not give himself time to react. 

It was not Link. The clothes were a dusty red, the sword was viciously curved, and the body too tall and the shoulders of his clothes bursting at the seams, as though he wore wrong-fitting skin. 

The stranger in Link’s place cackled loudly, pops of red and yellow light shrieking into view, more laughs and more red and glinting blades - Sidon threw himself past the first one and back toward the water, plummeting at full force - choked upon his tail as it was grabbed. The pain was instant, and the world lilted dangerously until the sky was upside down, and fading to nothing.

The letter, discarded, clung on the bank as water seeped into it, the ink rising through the envelope.

  
  
  


_Our time together has been very precious to me. dear one, I truly hope to see you soon._

_Forever hopeful,_

_Your Red_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /super short chapter, sorry folks :,D I need more time to rework some upcoming bits, so please be patient.
> 
> Big love to everyone this holiday season, you've sent me so many comments and kudos, thank you thank youuuu<3 I appreciate the hell outta you all, and hope you don't hate me for the cliffhanger :B It'll take me a while to answer back individual comments, and I'll try and update again soon. 
> 
> Thank you again! Peace out!


	9. Free The Beautiful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're in game territory. A few of the plotlines will follow the proceedings of the game just with new spins from here on in. Not sure if it works but it felt fun to write, so I'll hope it's fine until I hear back from you :D
> 
> The holidays haven't given me quite the amount of time I hoped for, so this isn't checked over at all - sorry readers. 
> 
> All my best wishes to you and yours. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Link laid the reigns along Epona’s back and closed his eyes, feeling his newest wound pull at the skin on his lip. The shadow of the great bird swept over the lakeside, blocking out the moonlight, and Link winced at its passing. 

The skeletal outcrop of Rito village towered above, and though torches burned, the night air was clear, windless and silent. The lake below was mirror-smooth, and Link missed the quiet burble of the Hylia River, and the Red shape of Sidon floating just below the surface; a warm shadow in place of Vah Medoh’s cold flypast. The mournful angry orange light of the village’s shrine glowed quietly.

Truthfully, it made no sense to drag this Divine beast conundrum out any longer than it needed to be. He was the champion and he had a job to do, and if that meant barging down some doors to get there faster, then that is what would have to happen. Besides, he longed for the blue sky and a spot of long grass next to the river Sword with his name on it. His stomach settled, swallowing the building dread down swiftly and feeling memories dance on the edges of his consciousness. 

Epona surged forward at his urging, his stomach heavy in determined terror, and with a thunderous clack that bit through the night, they roared over each rope-swing bridge and straight up the stairs into the village, squawks sounding off from the Rito guards and inhabitants. For good measure, he scraped the curve of his spear along the rock until the noise was so shrill heads in the nests above peered down in anger. Within moments the whole Village was awake and chasing him, as they ground to a cacophonous stop in front of the shrine walkway. Link clicked his tongue and motioned to Epona, and with alarming dexterity she twisted away and ran back the way she had come, barging past the same guards they’d just thwarted with breakneck speed. 

Link walked to the shrine as three of them levelled weapons at him, and a fourth white Rito took aim and fired. He cut the arrow out of the air, trying his best not to look too surprised. The crowd that peered at him was sizable, and the final face to look was large, old and owlish. An Elder. He smiled as he made eye contact, waving sarcastically to the guards and placing his Sheikah slate against its pedestal. With an ancient rasp the doors came open, and the Rito were left gawping as Link disappeared into the maw of the shrine with forced confidence and mock bravery. 

_Well, now they knew who he was, alright. All he had to do was prove he was worth the dramatic entrance._

_“I’m counting on you.”_ She whispered, from somewhere just the other side of the wall in his thoughts.  
  


*****

  
  


_Hunger._

The guard beyond the bars wafted about on patrol and Sidon drooled, considering how pliant the fresh meat would be - how gorgeous the snap of sinew and bone would be under his teeth - how---

His stomach gurgled, and even as the miniscule movement jolted him, spasms of pain rocked up from his ribs and knees. 

He tried to concentrate on it, the hurt drained away some of the hunger as his broken gills fluttered pathetically. The air was moistureless - when he could bear to open his eyes against the headache, his shed scales dotted the ground and patches of raw pale flesh shone thinly underneath - now covered in horrible sand. The silvery welts were more numerous with every passing breath as his skin dried and cracked. 

Time had no meaning in the cavern, Wishing and bargaining had given way to simply struggling for breath, and sleep was impossible, for when he slept he would breath through his gills and inhale yet only more sticky sand. If his eyes were open his head would thrum and he would see only white spots, bruises and cuts. 

If he did nothing he felt only an urge to eat every last one of them whole, and lick his lips afterward with relish. 

What was it for? This imprisonment. He had many hours to ponder it, and the only answer could be Link. They would have simply killed him by now if they really knew of his heritage. The Yiga were targeting Sidon because he had been seen with Link, and Link was allied with the Sheikah - and most of all he had made himself such an easy target. Now he was bait, for a man that did not know where to find him. He wished ardently that he had foreseen his own recklessness. His people would never reach him here, wherever here was, and without water he would soon die; though he doubted that meant much to the Assassins that swarmed around the cavern. He had taken out so few of them - only three in a desperate struggle to free himself from the cage, and he had wasted his chance. They were ferociously fast, and even the large ones could warp through space, leaving Sidon tearing at paper talismans and air. 

What a pathetic way to die. He laid on his back as gingerly as he could, until the candlelight permeated his eyelids just enough to make him feel warm. The light flickered, tinging softly green, and Sidon felt his wounds soothe, like water washing him clean. 

_“You shan’t give up just yet, Little One.”_

Sidon didn’t open his eyes, for it was pointless. But he felt Mipha’s finger brush along his brow and he smiled just the same.

“You must be ashamed of me, Sister.” 

_“I could be hard on you, but I could never be ashamed of you.”_

“I do not think I can get out of here.” He admitted, voice strangled and hands shaking. 

_“Do not worry, help will find you soon. But you must promise me that you will hold on as long as you can.”_

“I _need_ to drink. --I can taste their blood already.” 

_“I know - you do not have to feel guilty, but only this once. You must live at all costs. An opportunity will come soon.”_

Sidon opened his eyes, and despite the dimness he could only see a green glow, flickering above him like reflections off water, he spoke still. 

“Mipha, will you stay with me?” 

_“Always”_

Sidon smiled gratefully and fell back into dark exhaustion. 

  
  
  


*****

The road had been gruelling, and when Link collapsed into the river he felt the dust wash off with his weariness. But exhaustion soon gave way to excitement and he rushed to the sword, stood tilted precariously to one side, unkempt and unvisited.

There was no note, no parcels, not even a new pebble. Link breathed a heavy sigh of disappointment. He placed his new token at the sword’s base, and as he was about to turn, trying to ignore the crestfallen pang in his chest, it caught his eye.

Link could not look away. On the surface of the water was a light - a green one - and it danced over the river like a blupee skipping through the dark forest. There was nothing above the water that glowed similarly to have cast the reflection, and yet it seemed at home there, natural, even. 

So as ill advised as it was, Link watched it, until it skipped over to the other bank and hovered in the swell, oscillating so fast that he felt compelled to see what vexed it. 

The bank it pawed at held a little rock cranny, and there floated paper - a note on familiar reed paper surrounded by bleached yellow parchment. Yiga Talismans.

 _‘Dear one, I truly hope to see you soon.’_ It read, a few red scales stuck to its surface. 

The little wisp of light faded, already forgotten, as Link sprinted to his horse.  
  


*****

  
  


He emptied the sand from his Gerudo-style shoe and replaced it, days of blisters from riding throbbed in protest. Squatting and propped up against the sandstone wall, he observed. The first set of Yiga had been a cakewalk, all of them none-the-wiser to his current procession through the hideout, though he doubted that would continue. He’d killed all the gateguards rather spectacularly, after all, so enraged that he’d forgotten to take the Gerudo costume and veil off before sinking into practiced bloodlust. The main room was huge - crates and cages stacked up endlessly and rafters with yet more boxes hovering precariously on top. Link surged up a particularly pock-marked wall and into the shadows of the ceiling beams with all the speed he could muster, as the Bladermasters crossed below him. He silently surveyed, pulse hammering in his ears.

The eastern corner of the room was filled with barrels full to bursting with gems and rupees, more ill-gotten hauls from unfortunate merchants. An entire attic section that functioned as a storeroom for bananas, a southmost area that seemed to be for storing stolen art. Statues, paintings and silverware stacked alongside a cubicle with weapons, armour and vicious-coloured elixirs. Then there were cages - malnourished prisoners and skeletons still sat waiting for food, as well as beasts. An abused horse and a manacled Goron huddled together as unlikely fellows in the cool of the chamber. 

Then there was a separate jail. Link had to tiptoe along the rafters like a cat to get a clear view. 

A Blademaster leant in between the bars, poking at something with the tip of his sword. 

It seemed out of place - the cages were made of wood and ramshackle, and unmanned. This one was harsh metal and well formed rivets. 

As he rounded the edge of the central beam and saw the full cage, the sight inside made him feel sick. It had been _weeks_ of yearning, and yet as he saw Sidon, crumpled and still at the back of the enclosure, he felt no joy whatsoever. 

He looked beyond pale, a sight which Link had not seen even whilst Sidon had been bleeding out in the lake - his shed scales surrounding his body like fragments of red petals, the flesh underneath ghostly pink, and _dry_. 

Link had to still his heartbeat and watch, breathing through his nose as the blood rose in him like a stampede. As the clansman poked, he could see Sidon’s chest rising and falling. **_Good._ ** He was alive, and the Yiga clan would die for this. The sword drew blood as the masked torturer tried to wake his captive. 

Link hissed, and readied his bow. But he saw it, Sidon’s brow twitched, the scent of his own blood catching him.

Arrow knocked, the Hylian paused. Sidon was awake. That made him even angrier. 

He stalked across the beam until he was over the Cage - the Yiga guard was too distracted to notice him descend the wall, even in his bright and gaudy silks. 

Boxes were sat fat with loot on top of the cage, and as Link skirted and hid around them, he heard the malicious rumble of laughter and a grunt of pain from below his feet. 

Link had to clutch at the wood of a crate until the sound had passed and the worst of his fury had subsided enough for him to think. Death was not good enough for the Yiga. Only the worst kind of pain would do. 

But then, how should he go about torturing a torturer? Squatting in the dark, he could only imagine the look of despair on Sidon’s pale face - could only guess at the pain of having scales fall off and no water. The thought made him sick. He hoped the Zora had gone feral and ripped them limb from limb before they’d managed to subdue him--

Well, it was unlikely Link’s fury would be abated - but perhaps Sidon’s dark-eyed alter-ego would get some joy from it. Besides, Link would not be able to carry Sidon from here. He would have to move on his own, and the only other food around seemed to be bananas. Getting Sidon out was priority, Link just hoped his friend would forgive him for his methods. 

Link hefted his hammer quietly by his side, peeking over the edge of the cage, and squared up his line to swing to the back of the Yiga. 

The Assassin below cackled, Sidon growled, a whine peeling out into the black air. Link swung. 

The mask cracked as the head of the clansman shot through the gap in the bars. The clang was mighty, and the Yiga dropped his monstrously long sword with a grunt and a yelp. 

He immediately started struggling, shouting expletives and calls to his brothers. Link swung his legs over the side of the cage and dropped behind the Yiga. He heard some of the other Blademasters coming to investigate, and readied a bomb arrow at them through the bars. But now Sidon was awake and roused. The bars had caught the now trapped Yiga and fresh claret poured from a wound in his forehead. Link smiled grimly. 

The blademaster yelped before he even knew what was happening, the upper half of his chest pulled through the bars and arm bitten into like a plump steak before he could even struggle. The screaming was deafening, blood hitting the sand in fat globs. All the Yiga in the cavern simultaneously jumped to attention and swarmed towards the cage. 

Link frowned, the fuse of his bomb arrow lighting as he scraped it along the Yiga’s howling back. He loosed it into a stack of red barrels in the direction of the main entrance, all painted with white bones and crosses, left haphazardly in the corridor. The resulting explosion was deafening, the sound of clattering wood and smell of burnt metal and flesh. The cavern trembled such that part of the rafters shook loose, a huge beam collapsing upon a Yiga and trapping him as he ran from the fire. Half the Assassins attention was diverted to putting out the blaze, even as one of their own screamed in anguish - teeth sinking deeper into his arm, his hand at one end spasming grotesquely. 

Link hid swiftly as two of the other Assassins rounded the corner and tried to pull their peer from his Zora entrapment, screaming at one another. Link levelled his hammer and rushed in, hammer connecting with the first’s back with a sickening snick, before he kicked the second toward the cage. 

Link readied his next swing, but a pale red hand was already dragging itself up the bars, clawing and yanking the new Yiga face-first into the cage as he screamed and wailed. Sidon snarled gutterally, before snapping his teeth into the screaming man’s neck, blood blooming around his lips, and _drinking._ The Yiga’s yowls died out with a wet splutter. Sidon’s eyes were black and naroow, a growl shaking him even as he slurped. Sidon’s first victim, whose arm was a sinewy concave hangline, fell silent in fear.

Link watched stunned, before righting himself and aiming his bow, careful not to get too close to Sidon. The fired ice arrow made contact with the door lock and froze it with a satisfying crunch. He fired off two more at the other cages, and the starving Goron and horse looked up in shock.

The Zora took his time, his second Yiga, still twitching, was pulled in through the bars too quickly and too haphazardly, breaking his neck as soon as teeth could clench around his jugular. The other drank from only moments after. Link felt his blood run cold at the sheer brutality, before thinking better of it, docking another bomb arrow and firing straight into the throng of bodies that were trying to put out the fire he caused. 

The heat in the cavern rose, and the frozen locks on the cages shattered with a chime. 

Once he’d finished his newest drink, the Zora stumbled toward the new swarm of Yiga scrambling through the opposite door at the noise of the explosion. They seemed to view the strange rack of dead men stuck between bars with the same immediate horror that Link had, but were far less quick to recover, and by that point it was hopeless. Sidon had coursed out of the door and tackled over two, blood rolling down his chest. Link aimed at the third and hit bullseye, an arrow standing proud from the eye daubed on the Yiga’s mask. Sidon didn’t notice the help he was getting, instead ripping at the bodies. Neither did he notice the fire building behind him. The other prisoners surged out, narrowly dodging the clansmen and skirting through the corridor toward the exit, just in time.

With a rasp and crunch, the roaring fire bought low the ceiling, the silks and drapes were immediately ablaze on top of the remaining throng of howling Yiga, completely blocking off the entrance. Now Link had to hope that the door at the far end of the room led outside, and that he could somehow lure the blood-crazed Sidon out without getting bitten himself. 

This was most definitely, **_not_ ** how the plan was supposed to go, but he grinned in righteous fury under the veil nonetheless, ignoring the quiet wailing voice of guilt. 

Champions probably weren’t supposed to blow up enemy bases in very convincing drag, but he solemnly swore that nobody but Sidon and that Goron would live to remember this day, and even then, he hoped the red mist that had descended across Sidon’s eyes would make him forget most of it. What the Goddesses didn’t know, couldn’t hurt. _Probably._

He ran around the cage, banging his sword against the bars to get Sidon’s attention. The Zora looked, eyes reflecting the dim light like a cat’s, limp muscle snagged on his teeth and blood seeping down his chest.

The Yiga who were still alive were cowering, or writhing on the floor, body parts altered beyond the salvation of nature - splinters of ceramic masks littering the floor alongside Sidon’s flaking scales. He didn’t seem to notice the sharp edges puncturing the webs between his toes and fingers as he hunkered towards Link. 

The true state of the Zora was obvious, he walked on all fours, slowly and purposefully in all likelihood because that was all his body could manage - the seams of scale along his gills were blistered and stuck with sand, and going brown with dehydration. He limped, favouring his left side, and Link couldn’t listen too carefully or he might hear the crunch of his joints as he moved. He needed water, and fast. There had to be some in this Gods-forsaken hideout, and Link led him away, looking back often to judge the distance his friend followed at. Sidon had bitten him last time he had gone feral, and an injury like that right now was not worth the risk.

The corridor wasn’t long but it was arduous for Sidon, and Link felt the barest wisp of fresh breeze brush his face hopefully. He entered the room, assuring himself that they hadn’t been followed, and he quickly searched for the source of the breeze. Luckily he felt the chill in the cavern through his silks and up his stomach, otherwise he might have missed the strange kiss of air. The hidden door swivelled under his command with no complaint and daylight filtered in. Sidon breathed heavily behind him, drawing in close enough to attack now, but instead his arms stayed limply supporting him. He swayed a little, but his black stare did not leave Link as the Hylian gestured him cautiously out into the strange courtyard space beyond. 

At first glance it looked like a pool, and Link almost cried in relief, but the face of it was arid and dry - Lanterns hung around the edge, all over the space overhead, and the ground around it spoke of a sinkhole - no running water could be heard. It looked more like a reverse altar, a gaping maw to throw offerings into. Link immediately got the shivers. On the other side of the abyss led a pass up to the snow peaked mountains. That was problematic, but at least there was water there, that he could work with. Link stepped out, ushering Sidon to stay put. He didn’t quite seem to get the message, instead following behind but just slower than before. The air was freezing, and his clothes now did nothing but frame his goosebumps. 

The strange yellow light that spoke of the Yiga stealth technique ghosted his peripheral, talisman paper exploding out of thin air. He drew his scimitar and circled around, his back to the Abyss. It had one benefit - The Yiga would not be able to warp behind him without falling a very long way. The clansman that appeared was different from the usual uniformed Yiga, and regarded him with the sort of lazy, posturing authority that made his skin crawl. 

“Who the heck are you? And what are you doing in my napping spot?” 

Link rolled his eyes and immediately fired an arrow, which to his surprise was dodged easily. He barely listened as the eccentric went through the motions of realisation at whom he was, and then idle threats. He watched Sidon behind the Yiga, walking, eerily silent on all fours in the shallow sand, limp worsening and blood dripping off his chin like drool, regarding the man with a sort of obedient hunger. As the Yiga, who introduced himself as Master Kohga, danced from side to side in manic glee, still dodging Link’s arrows, the Zora regarded him blackly, as a Lynel might regard a newborn deer, but he looked so _exhausted_. His skin silvery, thin and reflective, his eyes grew duller by the moment, and he staggered to one side, licking the spare blood off his lips thirstily. He was so pale and sandy that he seemed to blend into the rock behind him. Link had no time to spend here, not for anyone but Sidon, let alone one more fucking Yiga. 

Then the master assassin moved, spinning away in a flurry of movement, talismans swirling about him, igniting in the twirl of cool air. The fire coalesced, a small meteor grumbling above his head, which rocketed at Link with far more force than he’d been expecting. Clearly the Yiga had a competent fighter for a master, but still, _he hadn’t got time for this!_

The moment the bomb had been fired at Link he had run in, throwing his Scimitar until the blade connected with the Yiga’s shoulder. The assassin yowled and hit the dirt, and Link, for lack of a better plan ran up and sucker punched him hard in the stomach. Kohga didn’t miss a beat, whirling away with a pained cackle and readying another talisman bomb, leaving Link breathing fumes after barely snatching his sword back and diving out the way.

Kohga _floated -_ Link had no time to take it in thoroughly _-_ his movement was bloated and unpredictable. If a creature had feet it had Tells - which way shoulders were pointing, the wayward twitch of a foot, flick of an eye - things that would betray what it would do next. The assassin had no indicators, his mask hiding the only giveaway that might have clued Link in. As Kohga flailed, sat stationed and resplendent in midair as Link dived out the way of smoke and fire, a sort of desperate panic set in. Arrows only half-caught their target, deflecting off the edge of some barrier, or softened by the clouds of red paper. Worse yet the Abyss was no protection from warping as Link had hoped, the man just cackled and used it as a vantage with which to throw fiery orbs at him. He daren’t throw his sword and lose it down the hole. 

Kohga didn’t seem to be able to stay in the air indefinitely, nor be able to warp infinitely. As Link deflected a hub of metal that came squarely for his head, the edge catching his ear and scraping a chunk of skin away from his scalp, he loosed an arrow and watched the Assassin falter in the air, almost threatening to fall down the hole. Regaining himself, Kohga floated upright, trying to struggle higher. Without warping he was at a fixed altitude. 

The invisible barrier that deflected Link’s arrows dropped for a millisecond, and Link fired and counted. One shaft connected, a solid hit on the Master’s thigh - bile, anger and frustration taking the place of nervousness. Kohga warped, predictably hovering close to the edge of the hole, but Link was ready for him, firing immediately and connecting with his arm, the fletching exiting the other side with a wet ‘thock’. 

The Yiga screamed, and rained fire and fury upon his head, cascades of talismans descending. Link swung wildly, losing sight of the assassin in the fiery torrent, catching sight of him again too late - the vast eye of the clan knocking him in the temple with a bitter clang of metal. Something dug into his shoulder with a wet rip. The world rang and reverberated, and all Link could do to stay alive was roll away to avoid another inferno. His arm wouldn’t respond quite right, blood pulsing in his skull like he could feel the plates of it scraping together and jostling for space. The pressure in his eardrums building with a pop as Kohga warped yet again and Link had to frantically find him, disoriented and unfocused. 

The ball that had just hit him floated menacingly, looking at him with that abhorrent upside-down eye. The Assassin moved, and the ball did too, swaying side to side as if ---

Link dodged to his left, and the ball hit the ground where he had just been, his second to last arrow leaving his bow with the hiss of a fuse, parting the smoke like frozen waves. He fired blind, but was treated to the echoing boom of the bomb arrow as Kohga’s inhuman screech ricocheted off the cliffs. Link sprinted, every muscle burning with effort, through the burning ash, talismans scorching his Gerudo silks, but Kohga had recovered too quickly! He must have used a barrier just in time, and with a small leap he was once again in the air a foot or so off the ground, the blast having cleared him from the mouth of the sinkhole. His hands glowed in vicious circles, and Link was close but not close enough -- charging too fast to avoid the fatal blow --

Silver flashed and Sidon’s teeth sunk into his gullet. The talismans immediately detonated, blasting both of them in a limp pile sideways, just shy of the mouth of the abyss, and Link caught one full in the face. 

With vision dyed a shade of warped, ringing white and jaw rattling with the clash of a thousand glasses smashing, only the feint red blur and reflective silvery quality of Sidon’s scales were a viable target, and he stumbled onwards. 

His sword? Shit, gone! he felt for his bow at his shoulder and with a scornful touch, pronounced it broken. He had only fists and one last arrow. And as he saw Kohga and Sidon squirm in the dirt, the Zora snarling audible above the ringing and echoes off the cliffs and his ears, his knees gave out, collapsing wholesale onto the blurry dark form of the assassin, his fist connecting and shattering the mask with a crunch. The Shriek coming from the Yiga was just back within his hearing range again, and as the wet slurp of sharp teeth full of flesh gave way to more pops of explosions, heat washing over Link’s face and scalding his eyebrows. Sidon fell limp, Kohga’s legs trapped beneath him, and Link felt the soft kiss of paper at the back of his head, sizzling and ready to--

But there was a familiar hiss too -- 

He reached, feeling by instinct, and with the last of his strength plunged his last bomb arrow into the face of his enemy, kicking with all his might and pushing Sidon away. His legs burned, and with the final stomp across the chest as they all lay prone, Kohga disappeared over the edge of the hole, arrow shaft sticking out his mouth like a grotesque pin cushion, what was left of him flailing as he disappeared. Link heard the buzz of his warp kick in, but before it could complete, the abyss erupted in a plume of acrid smoke, and the shriek fell blissfully quiet, only a hollow thud of flesh descending down endless rock a hundred leagues below them, and the all-encompassing ringing in Link’s ears. He stood, listening to victorious, blessed silence.

_Sidon._ Shit. _Sidon!_

He half crawled, half ran to the Zora. Sidon was awake and snarling - bloodied up one leg and the side of his torso, the gills there spitting out ash. To Link’s damaged vision, he was almost too silver to look at, light bouncing off his scales and teeth and eyes and so terribly bright. He could barely see, but his hands found his potions by instinct and he approached a hand held out in placation. He swallowed one himself, nearly choking and trying to resist nausea. If Sidon decided he was the enemy then Master Kouga might have taken them down with him. The rumble in the back of Sidon’s throat rose as Link came closer, the gel of his elixir spilling over his hand and Link reached for the parched gills and bloodied arm. 

Link hadn’t the energy to run, he simply hoped the Zora could no longer fight either. 

The scales were gritty beneath the gel, like a pearl in between teeth. The growls gave way to hisses, and Sidon dragged himself forward, looming over Link, dark eyes faltering underneath heavy eyelids. Link coaxed him, stumbling and panting with exhaustion, away from the edge of the earthy maw, his hands under the Zoras arms and his feet struggling to purchase in the sand. Instead they both collapsed, wheezing, Sidon’s snarling head in his lap. The movement put them back under the shadow of the cliff and Link’s eyes seemed to shift back towards normalcy, though the light seemed to swirl about in place, like it was dancing. 

He coughed, everything dry, and for the first time felt Sidon’s damaged scale beneath his fingertips. It blistered, even at his meagre touch. 

Water! _Water_ ! **_Anything!_ **

There was none. Sidon wheezed in pain, his teeth glinted and Link’s eyes screwed shut. 

“ _Now, Shall we try one more time?”_ Her soft voice rang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cliffhanger? foiled again! 
> 
> Updates may get a bit more sparodic now to give me time to rewrite the final chapter, and perhaps add another one on if the story resolution doesn't sit right with me. 
> 
> I hope you had a most excellent Holiday season and that you're safe and well. Be good to each other.
> 
> As always I am running late with answering comments, but I got some really lovely ones - thank you all so much :,3


	10. State of my Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Implications of smutty content, with a bit of dubious consent going on. 
> 
> This chapter is entirely skippable for those whomst don't want that stuff. For all those who are game on, please enjoy!

Link kicked as the Goron’s hand dragged him away from the snarl of Sidon’s teeth. He fought her grip, and reached for Sidon’s side with all his broken body. 

“Careful, he’ll kill you.” 

Link shook his head vehemently, and desperately motioned ‘drinking’ at the Goron - pointing up the snow capped highlands above them - who stared confusedly for a moment, before shaking her head.

“Ya can’t go up there, we’re all too dry. You ever seen what hot and cold do to one another? Our skin would shatter like them prison locks. You so dried out you can’t even talk.” 

Link stopped struggling to let his thoughts catch up with what the Goron was saying. He didn’t have the energy to try to correct her. 

He looked at Sidon - the layers of sunburn on heatstroke on peeling scales and dehydration. Frostbite on top would just--

What the hell was he supposed to do?

Sidon rasped and reached for him. 

Link growled and loosened the Goron’s grip until he landed, half sprawling against her side. 

“Whoa, what’re you gonna do little man?” 

Link waved her away, clutching his throbbing temples and downing an elixir for the pain, before limping back toward the base. 

“Wait until it’s burnt down inside, they all dead but it’s too dangerous for a Hylian to--”

With the heave of his magnesis rune, the door to the secret courtyard cracked away from the canyon wall, and Link’s muscles gasped against its mass. The horse, which he hadn’t noticed limp out beside the goron, startled and ran for the snowy slope as Link pushed the slab of solid iron towards his Zora. 

The Goron didn’t bother asking what was going on after that, shocked to silence, eventually following behind Link and helping coax Sidon onto the slab, with Link mostly failing to haul him up.

Sidon’s teeth glinted, but despite Link’s arms being wrapped around his neck, and his eyes stretched black and wide, the Zora did not bite. Dry lips flaring under the taste of blood and tongue lapping at the residue on his chin, but avoiding what Link almost offered up on a platter for him. The Goron only helped lift his feet, no matter that her skin was probably too thick to bite through.

With shaking muscles and nose bleeding from the effort, Link staggered and dragged the slab back towards the shelter of the hideout, the phantom magnet of the rune digging into his arms. 

The chatter of flames continued, somewhere down the hallway of the den, but the screaming had blessedly stopped.

From what Link could see, every barrel and chest in the annex room was filled with some luxury, gemstones to rupees to gold - only two were of any use to him at all. One sealed barrel of water and one full of lamp oil. He pushed the goron toward the water barrel, wordlessly tearing down every strip of silk that hung lavishly around the room. The goron dug into the barrel of gemstones, the crunch of which would normally have set Link’s teeth on edge. 

Before long, she had stopped eating and was helping Link with his beleaguered task, ripping the silks into bandages as the meagre strength in his arms finally gave out. 

“So what’s the plan here?” 

Link pointed at the Goron, and wrote _‘Get Help’_ in the sand.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea--”

Link shook his head and pulled another vial out his bag. 

_‘Won’t leave him_ ’. He wrote, pointing at Sidon. He pointed to his first statement, before writing a quick, desperate _‘Please!’_ next to it.

The Goron looked between his half-dead Zora and the blood that ran down Link’s clothes, before eventually agreeing. She drank nothing, all her nutrients present in the Amber and Topaz that littered the treasure barrels, and Link was grateful they didn’t have to share the single barrel of water. 

He thanked her, and she shook his weak hand.

“You sure, little’un? I ain’t strong enough right now to carry him but I can manage you, maybe.” 

Link shook his head and bowed, cringing in pain. 

“I’ll be back with help as soon as I can. Swear it, I gots to thank you for gettin' me outta there.” 

She hurried as fast as she could, an armful of amber for the road, and ran out into the flames of the hideout. Link nearly tried to stop her, before realising that the fire was no hotter than any normal day in the heat of Death Mountain. 

Honestly, he had only briefly considered her safety against his rage when burning down the hideout, and now he would have to find a way to repay her against the guilt of thoughtlessness. He was lucky the horse survived too. 

He staggered to his feet and drank from the water barrel until his ribs ached. Then took in a mouthful of water and collapsed next to Sidon, who reached for him, half-dried out, half-dead. Link’s mouth found his, his gaze swallowed in Sidon’s stare as he let his mouth descend and the mouthful trickle into Sidon’s waiting lips. 

The Zora held his head in place, plundering his mouth for any moisture until Link ripped himself away and stumbled up for the next one, managing three mouthfuls before Sidon was able to muster the strength to kneel, leaning against Link, and drinking so deeply from the barrel that water gushed from between his parched gills - thick, filthy sand flushing out in its wake. 

Link took mouthfuls alongside him, between scooping handfuls to clean out their wounds, blood washing clear down into the barrel, cool water down the back of his neck and burnt face and cleansing the wound in Sidon’s side. 

The Zora growled, his voice still scratchy, eyes of pitch, and teeth bared, his pain finding Link and Link’s impatience finding him back. When claws tried to grasp him, Link merely smacked them away and forced an elixir down Sidon’s gullet, and salve onto his wounds. Sidon’s black snarl growing as Link put the barrel in between them after he was done, just in case.

With the Zora glowering at him over the water, Link felt the heat becoming too much. But there was still one more thing to do. Then he could rest. His leaden arms found his strips of silk, stumbling to dunk them in oil. He just hoped Sidon was too tired to resist.

He stepped around the barrel, no longer bothering to keep up his guard. Sidon’s scales glistened, somehow still a gorgeous silver-pink even in injury. Sidon rumbled as Link approached, teeth bared slightly and crown snarled. 

Link couldn’t even flinch when Sidon’s hand shot out to hold him at bay. 

He didn’t move to bite, but who could blame him for growling? Oil on sandy, parched skin was probably going to be painful, but Link had no other way to keep him from drying out. 

He let Link move in, slowly, all the while a small, wary grimace split his face. 

Link licked his dry lips, and brushed Sidon’s cheek with an oily thumb.

The scale beneath washed from a dirty grey to a pearly silver, and Link sighed with relief even as Sidon hissed and snarled at him, leering forward. Link held on, unable to keep himself on his feet without wrapping his arm around Sidon’s neck and hanging there at his mercy. 

_I know it’s painful, bear with me._ He thought, as loudly as he could, before his screaming arms lifted him enough to kiss the patch of scale on his cheek as an apology. 

Sidon’s black gaze rounded on him, the Zora’s arm tearing Link off him, his back hitting the metal of the door with a clink and a grunt. The reverb of Sidon’s growl made Link’s ribs rattle, and though Sidon did not descend on him as expected, he got up and stepped back as quickly as he’d been thrown down. All his muscles screamed in agony. 

They couldn’t fight here, and Sidon needed to keep what moisture he had left in his skin. 

The Hylian mentally apologised, staring down the feral Zora, before throwing himself briefly toward Sidon’s wrist, wrapping it once with the oiled bandage, yanking as hard as he could, and when Sidon’s grip on the newly slicked surface gave way, throwing them both over and capturing Sidon’s other wrist as he thrashed. He held both together, avoiding teeth, and tied them solidly around the wrists, just managing to hang on long enough before the Zora bucked him sideways and Link went sprawling into the sand. 

Link righted himself - covered in granules - staring at Sidon, who snarled back, laid on his back with laboured breath rasping between his teeth. 

He had maybe another handful of moments’ fight left in him. 

They were both exhausted, and Link stumbled up, dunking all his bandages in the oil, before heaving them all onto the downed door, sitting on Sidon’s knees and wrapping his feet and legs. The Zora had to lie, growling and squirming until both his legs and his waist were mummified, unable to situp through injury. Link watched mystified as the sickly silver scale washed back into blazing red as his hands made their way up his sides. 

He worked up his arms and chest - by now Sidon was almost completely still, regarding him with a hissing, dark glare. 

Soon. Then Link could collapse, and Sidon could rip tear and bite as much as he wanted. Soon. Rest. 

Link looked at him apologetically, finishing at his shoulder with an oily knot. His red ghost was returning to his proper colour, only his face and tail left looking spectral. He had run out of bandages, a single one just enough to help him wipe down the fins of the tail and Sidon’s parched brow. 

Soon. Come on. Just a bit more.

Sidon’s bound hands came to tug at the silks at his chest, the rumble making his dark gaze shake.

Link dropped the rag, unable to grip the bandage anymore, unable to hold himself up, leaning into Sidon’s grip as he brushed the last of the oil around Sidon’s face, leant close so his blistered vision could make out each scale. Thumbs over parched lips, lips over parched lips.

Honestly he had no idea what he was doing. Something akin to terror, then relief washed over him. 

All of this had been such a close call. He kissed him hard enough to tell whatever sensible thought was left in Sidon’s head how much he had missed him - _worried_ for him. The battlecries and bloodlust were gone, all adrenaline replaced by ache and anxiety. 

What would he have done without the hope of another letter by the riverbank? No more happy bubbles to lull him to peace? No stolen touches or whispered words?

 _Don’t you go leaving me again. Don’t you go anywhere._ He screamed internally, kissing Sidon deeper, who growled, once in warning and then once again in promise as Link ignored every defensive instinct and crushed his lips to Sidon’s hard enough to bruise. 

Sidon bit, enough to draw blood and wake Link up long enough to realise the foolishness of his actions and ignore them anyway. He paused for a moment, looping Sidon’s tied arms over his head so he might rest between them, hand on Sidon’s thrumming heart like that day in the river. Sidon’s vibrations redoubled, and Sidon found the shell of his ear, torturing and nibbling roughly. 

Link shuddered and collapsed onto him fully, hands clawed in oily bandage and Sidon’s presence. 

  
  
  


  
*****

  
  
  


Sidon awoke. 

Sandstone bridged the dark vault above his head, coolness wracked his body, everything too dry, or too oily, too airless -- _too something_ \---

Salt. It ran into the pores on his chest and burned, and he groaned, before realising doing that hurt too. The rest of him was bound somehow. His arms ached.

He looked over, the side of the room that was coolest had a hole in the wall, nighttime twinkling coldly outside. The moisture on the tips of his fingers and metal at his back was heavenly. On the right came a soft, sighing breath, and Sidon followed it’s call. 

Link’s lips were nicked, his eyes glazed and sweat pooled in the sand under his temple--The Hylian lay unresponsive, all that remained of his clothes was a band of torn turquoise fabric about his chest, and a single shoe. Skin layered in bite marks like replacement clothing.

He looked vacant and spent, like the heat of the desert had evaporated his soul. 

“Link?” The noise cracked and his gills heaved. “What…”

Link looked up, slowly, blankly, chest fluttering and eyes falling shut against the dusty film on his face. His breath brushed against Sidon’s neck, and his body glistened with spent moisture. 

Sidon’s mouth twitched against the taste of him, and unconsciousness swallowed him whole.

  
  


*****

When Sidon woke again, it was to a dull whisper and a beam of sunlight. Ice sat alongside the pool he was laid in, only a few scant handspans deep

He couldn’t move. It felt like being back in his egg or a cocoon, but it was cool and damp, and his scales ached. 

Someone was mumbling behind him, a stilted conversation through ringing ears.

“Then take as much as you need.”

“You are a fool not to accept help”

“Buliara, _enough._ ”

Someone grunted, and sand grated as they walked away. 

“Go, prepare.”

The sunlight skittered away as the door closed, footsteps descending downward.

“Creature, you are awake.”

Sidon shuddered, and turned just enough so he might see, every muscle flaring and screaming in protest. 

“I know what you are -- who you are, Prince Sidon.” The tiny, red and gold Gerudo said firmly, full of barely contained anger. “I have done you the favour of keeping that from Link and the other Gerudo. In return, you will do me the courtesy of answering some questions.”

“L-Link - is he h-hurt?”

“Healing, but alive.”

She barely let him breathe out in relief before putting her hands on her hips and beginning.

“He said you saved his life. Is that true?” 

Sidon’s addled brain didn’t know how to answer, so he lay. She sighed.

“How did you come to be in the Yiga Hideout?”

“A-a-ambush.”

“So you weren’t working with them?”

Sidon shook his head, stopping abruptly when the world started spinning faster.

“So what reason did you have to hurt him?” 

Sidon couldn’t comprehend the question, a violent heatwave coursing up his body. 

It reared above him and crashed down through his skull, washing his consciousness away.

Green light lit the space behind his eyelids. _“Reckless Child…”_ The voice chided softly, though he could hear her smile in it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! (Belated as all 'ell, same as this chapter - oopsie) As always, I am late to answer comments for the previous chapter, but I hope you enjoyed this one, and thank you so much, as usual, for your love, support and evidence thereof, I promise I will get back to you soon.
> 
> Real Question though, if I were to put the censored content of this chapter as a seperate fic, who would be interested in reading it? Ofc I'd need to actually write it first ahaha /sweats in grammarish/


	11. Not In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, we're in the downhill slope toward the end now, 5ish chapters left. obviously I've been a bit basic and named each chapter after the song I was listening to most whilst writing it, and thought I'd name drop the song on this one, being Not in Love - Crystal Castles ft. Robert Smith. Perhaps I should pop a playlist together or something when I'm avoiding responsibility :x 
> 
> As always, please enjoy this chapter and on with the show :D

News slowly poured in, the river rose ever higher, and the warm season whittled away longingly. With each drop of rain Sidon strained to remember the blank space between hallucinating Mipha and being back in Zora’s domain, healthy and bewildered. His council-imposed ban on travel had been loosened - they feared his disappearance had been a direct response to their tightening of fists from his first set of injuries. Sidon honestly wondered how they hadn’t found out about his kidnapping. How his scales and insides weren’t so filled with sand and Yiga hatred that the truth didn’t just spill out of him. Despite honesty being his usual policy, he remembered so little himself that telling them wouldn’t even ease his guilty conscience. He had told them that he had gone to look for Gerudo help instead, and had gotten lost in the desert. It was pathetic, but they accepted it without qualm. Perhaps their desperate situation made his desperate stupidity more believable. He had too many questions of his own. He got so caught up in the memories that snapshots flickered across his thoughts, too fast - _iron bars - fire - ‘_ **thock** _\- blood - dryness - silk - mask - rage - anger - mask - blood - ANGER -_ **_snick_ ** _-_ blood - Skin - press - flesh - ice - **Link ---** he felt the ghost of a body writhing against him. 

Nothing stuck but that savage, intimate touch and blue eyes staring down at him. The further on that time wound, the surer he became that he had hurt Link. Maybe _worse--_ every time he thought about it the same sweet taste erupted in his mouth. He immediately taught himself the word “sorry” in sign, from Purah’s books. 

In the privacy of his pool, he wrote a letter to the Gerudo chieftain, and then tore it to shreds, unsure as to whether he had hallucinated her too. Creeping uncertainty pervaded. Was he even really sure he hadn’t just made up the whole thing?

Was Link truly gone? 

Within weeks, he was swimming miles every night for the barest sign of the Hylian. The stables were abuzz with news of further calamity. Their bank and the silver sword were spotlessly clean, and though his gifts were taken, nothing was left there in return for his pack of letters. 

Slowly, the days flooded through his fingers. He saw something of Link in every piece of news, could hear hoofbeats around every riverbend, could smell petrichor, fresh bark and fruits through the rain, like Link’s skin was just a touch away.

“Ymil just came back from the Rito village - says the Divine Beast there is going berserk and attacking anyone who travels in a group. The Rito can’t even move without getting shot at.” 

“And just when it looked like we’d gotten lucky with Death mountain clearing up enough for trade - _just our luck_.”

“What about those towers? Guy on the road said he saw a kid climb one a moon ago - just scale the damn thing.”

“Isn’t he worried that it’ll light up all red-pink like the rest of that old technology?”  
  
“How is a tower going to start attacking people?” 

“Well everything else tries to kill us? Why not a tower? What do you think they’re even for?” 

Each stable was barren of anything concrete. And slowly, Sidon began to go mad with worry. He surged up and down the rivers, and the sword at the riverbank remained lonely. Sidon left shells, drawings, supplies, _anything,_ all hopelessly at it’s base. He would wait for hours at a time. Shoo off birds that tried to claim the food he left, scare away the creatures that got curious. 

Truthfully he should have been looking for another Hylian to help, though the warriors on the road were sparse. It didn’t occur to him to look for another when he was already preoccupied with the one he had. 

His father definitely noticed, and though he did not understand it, the King seemed to let his strange behaviour slide. Muzu and the elders looked on with scorn at his desperation - such that Sidon had to continually sneak out of the Domain at night, for his day training was perpetually supervised by one grumpy face or another. 

During the day he built up barricades of sand in hessian sacks to keep their fish farms from the ever rising tides. During the night he sent himself mad. 

He went to diplomatic meetings with the council and tried to glean information from anyone brave enough to pass by the entrance to the domain. What he heard worried him more - rumours of aggressive monsters and screams coming from the Divine Beasts. As if to confirm the rumours, Vah Ruta began pouring forth more water even faster, as if counting down to their extinction. 

Slowly his father seemed to recede. King Dorephan’s stern word and mighty demeanour was being chipped away day by day. The shock arrow plan was no closer to completion and with the Rito being inaccessible via their own Divine beast problem and difficulty flying in typhoon weather - none of their skilled archers came forth to help. The Gorons would sink in the reservoir, few if any of the Gerudo could swim, and the Hylian and Sheikah warriors were so few and far between that none could be spared from their guard duties or hunting. The wrinkles across his father’s face seemed to transform from artifacts of past joy into weary lines tethering him to his sad throne. 

“My boy,” Dorephan sighed after Sidon bought him a particularly impressive Trout - his father’s favourite. “Please, you enjoy your catch. I’m afraid the taste would be quite lost on me.” 

It was the most defeated the Prince had seen him since losing Mipha. Sidon sank further into hopelessness.

  
  


The more sorrowful the domain became, the harder Sidon looked for Link. 

Months passed, and upon the point of exhaustion, Sidon curled on the bank next to the Woodland stable and listened to the quiet murmurs of the residents and customers. The moon stared at him and the grasses tickled along his fins.The world felt hollow. He barely noticed, but for a new habit of eavesdropping, the murmured conversations in the background. Nothing of importance, again. 

Hooves clomped past, and a hurried exclamation. “Kish!! You won’t believe this! I came here as fast as I could from the Wetlands! They’ve just been attacked by a Guardian!” 

The woman dismounted her horse and ran to tell the group of Farriers the rest of the story. Sidon’s soul recoiled with the bad news.

“Oh no, are they alive?! Are you hurt?” 

“You aren’t going to believe me --- I’m fine! They’re all still alive -- it was miraculous - some young’un drew the damn thing away from the stable on his horse. We thought he was a goner, could hear the alarms ringing out across the plains. Then it jus’ went quiet? And the kid rides back with an armful of cogs and screws, lookin’ none the worse and the Guardian is jus’ gone? And Yolero said he saw this kid reflect that guardian’s blast with just an old pot lid!!” 

“No way did some kid actually kill a Guardian-- must’a gotten lucky with--”

Sidon didn’t stay a moment longer. The river welcomed him as he soared downstream. 

  
  
  


***

The Wetland stable was abuzz with chatter, but Link was not present. Sidon anxiously pressed on, knowing where to look first. 

The sword stood proud on the bank and Sidon waited, forcing all his jittering bones to lock together in the quiet dead of the night. The Warrior did not appear until the moon was hidden behind the clouds, laying a parcel at the sword base and collecting that which was already hidden there. Sidon wished there had been more now - he’d replaced the gifts nearly every day with something more appropriate, or useful, or beautiful or-- Sidon had to stare to make out the moonshine silhouette or a hint of expression - when he drew closer the Hylian was so covered in dirt and grime he looked unrecognisable. The Zora held his breath, quietly making sure it was Link - _his Link._ The man’s hair was matted brown rather than it’s usual sandy blonde, his clothes tatty and ripped. Eventually he turned back across the bridge. 

A horse waited for him, one Sidon knew very well. 

He remembered Ledo warning him not to be so reckless a few moons ago, whilst bandaging his arm. He’d made up a story about a Bokoblin catching him unawares on a riverbank, too embarrassed to tell Ledo the truth. He really was lying a lot recently. That Hylian’s damned horse was a demon, unlike any other he’d faced. When he tried to wake his new swordsman friend - their first meeting, the beast had charged, so furiously he had to throw himself back into the river, and as such, he didn’t see the rocks until after his arm had split in pain. Worse yet, the man hadn’t seen him, and the horse was more than content to try it’s luck swimming after him. 

Still, those following nights he dreamed quietly of golden hair and blue eyes, and then thunderous hooves chasing him away. Recently, he had forgotten about the horse, and only the gaze haunted his memory, but the dark did not betray it yet. He quietly promised that when he had introduced Link to his father, he would stop lying, chiefly to himself. 

The Horse being present now was proof enough of who the swordsman was, and yet Sidon stayed a stranger, watching as the man picked up a broom from against the stable wall before leading his horse over the road towards the river. Sidon sank back into the water, and headed back to the shadow of the bridge. It really was unlike him to hide, but his search for a Hylian and strange bashfulness around Link -- this habit had formed so quickly that he hadn’t given himself much time to think about it. Panic rose like breakwater. Link wouldn’t want to see him -- not after---the taste came back in full force. Had he hurt him? But the smell clouding all his senses said that he’d--the _fear in Link’s eyes was--_

The horse trotted forward as Sidon hid himself on a rocky outcrop out of the swell, hoping the shadow of the bridge would hide him well enough. He watched as the Horse stooped to drink from the river, and the Hylian joined her at her side. As he lowered his head to slurp, Sidon felt the flick of his gaze land on him for the briefest moment, but it passed. The Prince’s imagination reeled. Link finished drinking long before his horse did, and whilst she supped more, he dipped the broom in the river and used it to clean the mud that clung around her hooves, despite the fact that she was in far better condition than he. She didn’t seem to mind all that much, and Sidon tried to remember what her fur felt like.

When he seemed happy that his horse was comfortable, the Stranger removed the bow, quiver and disk that hung from his back, before tugging off the dirty tunic and letting it drop into the river. The tunic was then laid on a rock using the broom to scrub out as much dirt as possible. Again, Sidon could have sworn that the man looked up at him for the briefest moment. Sidon didn’t dare move, even when the Hylian looked away. 

A rag and a lot of scrubbing seemed to be the only way to lift all of the remaining filth from his skin, and the Hylian stood waist deep in the water, the ripples of moonlight flowing by him calmly. His brows were knitted. New scabs wracked his skin.

Sidon leaned forward to get a better view of the now clean man. A rock dislodged from the precipice under his feet and fell into the river with a resounding plop. Sidon froze.

The Hylian let the rag drop and turned calmly in his direction, staring directly at the shadow under the bridge. 

His eyes were blue and piercing, and now the dirt ran in globules down his chest and back, Sidon could see the golden crest of hair just under a watery layer of mud. The Zora’s whole body vibrated in surprise and joy, his vision momentarily obscured by frosted tears, before leaden dread sank down his spine. 

It really - _really_ was Link. 

What should he do? It was a little late to run away now. Perhaps it was simply best to reveal himself. But--Link wouldn’t want to see him--

Sidon slid from the outcrop and into the river, and for the brief second that he was submerged, the Hylian seemed to have knocked an arrow in his strange bow, and had it trained readily at Sidon, eyes fierce, even whilst staring down a shadow. 

The Prince froze, staying still in the dark, only his eyes and the top of his head poking out from the water. 

His heart reverberated in his ears and his tongue lodged in his throat. If what he feared -- if what he might have done --- well he deserved to get shot. Link deserved to be the one to shoot him. 

Sidon swam a little way forward as slowly as he could, out from the darkness that cloaked him, so the top of his head was outlined to the man under the moonlight. The Hylian’s expression didn’t soften, but there was an immediate loss of tension in his draw arm. His eyes searched the landscape around them for any other threats. The Prince took no notice against his stampeding heart. He was under no delusion what would happen to him should Link let his arrow fly. 

Still, Sidon had not seen him in so long, and drank in the details in the moonlight. He looked leaner, more lethal. Scars mapped a labyrinth across his naked torso. Sidon cringed at marks on his neck, a raised red welt etched there. The taste came back, even as his mouth was parched and dry.

“Sorry.” Sidon whispered quietly above the cascade of water, before turning his gaze downward. The night was calm and full of colours.

An audible click of a tongue, and Sidon turned with a start.

Then, the gods’ damned horse charged. 

The arrow loosed in shock.

Sidon dove faster than he ever had before, smelling blood. Panic overwhelmed him. 

It was not his, the smell was fragrant and seductive as it burned through him. 

The dam on his memory broke as the blood sank in - Link moaning soundlessly and bites etched across his shoulders, shuddering in the dirt under Sidon’s mouth, crushed by his weight, each movement making him--

The Horse was rearing above the surface of the water, the Hylian trying to escape her, his leg was bleeding freely from the ankle, a line of cloth still attached to a rock where he’d caught it in the chaos. The great beast brayed and towered above the Swordsman, it’s huge shadow falling across the swirl of water, and his Hylian looked so _small_ next to her fury. He would be crushed!

Sidon surged upwards, snatching the man away from the beast.

Bubbles burst from the warrior as they plunged back into the current, his arms flailing before Sidon could put them on the other shore.

The Prince lifted him up the bank, before panicking and dropping back into the water, Link’s skin burning him like a brand. Except there was a hand clutched firmly around his face fin.

The Hylian’s eyes were furious, but that faded as quickly as it had come. He let go of Sidon gently.

Sidon scrambled in panic, breathing heavily against the bank of the river. 

“Forgive me!” Sidon startled, a heady veil of curiosity and mania descending over him. He deserved it all, truly. What a pitiful end to the Zora Royal Line. A reaction such as this answered his fear, as it cramped and entangled in his chest and sickness at his own weakness wracked him. Blue eyes in his memory turned skyward, clear and laced with pain.

A long silence ensued, only the water trickling past the rocks gave Sidon any sense of clarity. He got no response, only a cold, intense stare, and water tumbling down moonlit muscle. A Hylian staring down a Zora twice his size. Between the fear and trepidation, admiration and exuberance began to set in. Perhaps a death to a man so beautiful whom he had hurt so badly was not such a bad way to go. 

The longer their silence stretched, the more questions tumbled into his mind, his thoughts shuddered and broke under the weight of his confusion and eagerness.

“Link,” Sidon whispered gratefully, trying not to cry out or hold him. “You’re alive.” 

The Swordsman frowned. The Hylian clawed his way onto the upper ledge of the bank and he collapsed in a graceless heap. Sidon peeked over at him, checking that the Mare was not going to jump in the river to rescue her master. He shivered with adrenaline and could not take his eyes away from the blue gaze and heaving chest.

He had no idea what to say. Wasn’t there something he was supposed to be asking?

“Did she hurt you?” _Not the right question._

The Hylian blinked twice, scandalised, before propping himself up on the earth with a flick of his wrist. He whistled, long and low, and the Horse behind them backed up the bank and onto the pathway, lying down obediently. 

Sidon turned to stare, wishing he were dead. The Horse was never going to kill the Swordsman, he was only out for Sidon’s head. How on earth could he get a greeting so wholly wrong? May the Goddesses send the Calamity to eat him whole. 

He cringed at his own stupidity, before whispering, ashamed, “Sorry,” the rest of his apology catching in his throat.

He threw himself back into the river and swam as fast and as far as his embarrassment would take him. 

When he returned to the sword a day later, honestly ready to plead with the first available monster for a quick death, the note read:  
  


‘ _Red,_

_Your gifts were thoughtful, thank you. Sorry, I couldn’t think of much that was worthwhile to send back._

_I’ve made something for you. It’s not the best, but you seemed to like feathers a lot. It won’t last very long, but I’m not good at making things. I will greet you as a stranger if we meet at your home, all is forgotten. I am also sorry._

_Go careful._

_L._

‘P.S. _You realise Epona keeps attacking you because you keep freaking out, right?’_

  
  


Sidon had never felt so mortified in all his life, but he opened the presents and tried not to think too hard about how stupid he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it to the end! Thank you for sticking with me this far, it's been wonderful to have so many people on board. Thank you for all your comments, Kudos and bookmarks. For once I'm up to date with answering comments and I got some truly brilliant feedback last chapter. I hope you all enjoyed this one, even if the last was a wee bit wobbly :D 
> 
> P.S. I promise there will be ProperPorn (Trademark), but we're not there yet fellas!
> 
> P.P.S. New format! This and all the previous chapters have had the double-spacing taken out. Please let me know if you don't like it.


	12. Colours

“The truth...I did a horrible, stupid thing, letting myself-- **_..._ ** to get too close too quickly and pine for so long and to go so blood crazed- Mipha, sister, I cannot think that there has been a messier royal flirtation than this. I have lied so many times-- We were both almost dead--... I am ashamed. I wish I were dead, and when I do not, I wish for his touch. I...I need your guidance more than ever. Big Sister, I want to make amends, but how? Foolish, I know. I must wait for him to seek me out. I wish I had not sought him before. What in Hyrule am I even doing?” the statue looked at him understandingly, rain dripping off her gentle stare, so he continued with a sigh. “I do not think he will come, but I have tried to prepare myself in case. I shan’t be flustered again - I must be the Prince our people deserve. I haven’t left the domain as much. I have tried to bolster father’s spirits, and I have done all that the council have asked of me. It’s not enough. The soldiers seem much happier now we are looking for candidates for the Shock Arrow plan as a unit - so you see, despite everything, I will not give up. My motivation is not for my own sake, and though I...cringe...at the recent past, it shan’t impede me.”

He adjusted the Charm Link had given him - it was made of woven and braided down, a plume of feathers that matched the ones he already wore - strange that Link had never seen Sidon’s regalia but managed to match it without intending to. Sidon found that it was supposed to be a bracelet but fit so well across the crown of his dorsal fin that he had the smith encase it in a translucent silver. He wore it in private, and looked at it when nobody else was around. Also, there had been a small, terrible drawing of a red cow and an angry horse in with the charm. Sidon had to force himself to sit and stare at it until he didn’t cringe anymore. 

He sighed and regarded Mipha’s marble form with a sort of fond loneliness. 

It had regularly occurred to Sidon that preparing for one Hylian whom he had met, hurt terribly, smooched and knew so little of, to show up, save his people and pretend to be a complete stranger to him the whole time was foolish at best. Link not showing up, however, was even more unthinkable, and though his days had been occupied with trying to forget the whole debacle and remember his duties, the thought gnawed at him constantly. 

He supposed he had never really had a crush before. 

He remembered Mipha’s words on love clearly,  _ “Little one, how lucky I am to have someone that makes saying goodbye so hard.”  _

Sidon knew it to be true, for he still could not say goodbye to Mipha, nor his people, nor his father - so he tried to imagine saying goodbye to Link. 

It was strange, because it was easy, until he tried to say it aloud with blue eyes echoing around his head. ‘ _ All is forgotten.’  _ the letter read. 

And so Sidon settled into the emotion and began to feel vulnerable again. He smiled weakly at his sister and made his way to the throne room, slipping his secret trinket into a pouch hanging at his side. 

Dorephan had seen the last of the council out for the night, and looked to be readying himself for sleep. The King’s massive form was a blessing of his people and a major inconvenience - All Zora high monarchs grew to be much larger in stature than the general populace (though none of their scholars or doctors were quite sure why), and it put a huge strain on his father’s body. Backaches and inability to walk were regular, and the King’s weight meant that he struggled to stand upright without support for any lengthy amount of time. It was unlikely that he would ever be able to leave the land of the domain again without significant assistance. 

“My boy, you have been to see your sister?”

Sidon nodded and helped him stand and move to the edge of the Throne room, where Dorephan gratefully dove off the platform, through the driving rain and into the waiting Lake. Sidon still marvelled at how gracefully he could move and swim, even now. He made such little splash comparable to his mass that any sensible creature might accuse him of being a water-ghost. It had been a worry of the families for years that Mipha and Sidon would grow to be even larger because of their mothers Deep Zora heritage, but Sidon would still be proud to be thrice his father’s size and still possess an ounce of his grace. 

“Father,” Sidon spoke quietly as he joined Dorephan in the flow. “Might I ask, how did you know you were in love with mother?” 

The King eyed him with a kind and weary gaze, that softened instantly at the mention of Queen Carcha. “I knew the moment we fought. At first I did not understand why. You see, my boy, until then I had been a foolish creature. I believed that partners were meant only to support you. Children, duty, honour. All of these were what I thought made a Queen. Instead what your mother taught me was authenticity. What I had imagined was what I thought my people wanted - what I loved was what  _ I needed.  _ She was fierce and cruel and loving and healing - infinitely prideful and excessively and brutally honest.”

Sidon remembered times of his father telling him of the first fight between the King and his future Queen. She had been of a similar size as him at the time - an even match in open ocean waters quickly became anything but. He knew his mother was wild and savage, but showed herself to be equally kind and fair - after giving Prince Dorephan a stern beating and a few scars, she healed him and told him to return to his people. When he did not, instead insisting on her company, she dragged him back up the river and forced the Zora guards to keep him. 

Sidon blew mournful bubbles as they swam, recognising much of his father’s foolishness reflecting his own, yet shame bound his heart tighter.

“Have you found someone with which you are interested?” 

Sidon considered the question, for he was not one to lie. “Yes, but it is not a good match. It would be thought of...perhaps...considerably worse than yours and mothers.”

“You are considering marriage?” 

Sidon had to hold himself back from yelping, instead shaking his head vehemently. “We are only strangers at present - truly!”

Dorephan, despite all of Sidon’s fears, only gave a weary sigh. “You would not be the first for a silly match. My Sidon, I can only give you the same advice I gave to Mipha when she came to me with her worries. As a King I must tell you to live for your people - find someone whom the Domain can rely on and confide in. But as a father, I must tell you to live for yourself. Those concepts are usually at odds with one another, but Zora live long lives and have a short memory. Whatever mistakes you make now will be lost to time. However mistakes to whom you are married are considerably harder to get rid of.” 

Sidon stopped swimming for the barest moment to oggle the enormous form of his father, whose face floated above the waterline jolily. “Father...That’s…--”

Dorephan grinned, the great weight of him creating waves in the water. “I am trying to convey that your mother was a pain in the gills, and though the Domain viewed her as a fling and not a Queen, she was perhaps the greatest mistake of my life, and I shall never regret her as long as I live.”

The King had stopped swimming, and they just floated there, buoyed with honesty.

“Ask yourself, would you regret your time with this person? Will you live to regret it?” 

Sidon sighed, for it was far too late for that. 

And so, as much as he was able, he told his father of all that had happened, only saving the names and the places and the goriest of details for himself.

  
  


******

  
  


Link stared, for she was so much smaller than he had been expecting. 

A similar, beautiful red, but perhaps only a head and a half taller than he was - deep Zora must have been much bigger to have produced such a colossus as Sidon. 

“I knew it! You’re Hylian, aren’t you?” She said brashly. 

Link frowned, and rather than listening to her speech, continued over the bridge whistling for Epona. She thundered along behind him and the Zora hid in response. Link swung up into the saddle, and with the certainty that he was so close to the Domain, loosed an arrow straight into the eye of the Bokoblin running toward them, and let Epona gallop over its body for good measure. The creatures were not fast enough to follow him, but the Zora woman was, and Link tried to pay as little attention to the second Zora and the third one who joined the woman pursuing him in the river. 

The first two were remarkably similar, both a beautiful reflective red, but the third one was sleek black, with armour and a spear. They were sensible enough to keep their distance and not provoke his or the monsters’ attention. 

He dispatched the Lizalfos camp that connected the marsh to the riverbed with some difficulty, then turned to acknowledge his current companions. 

The slightly smaller of the two scarlet ones immediately chimed in, whilst the others stared in awe. 

“Hylian! Please, could you spare--”

Link shook his head and pulled the rock and charcoal from his bag. 

_ ‘Zora’s Domain?’ Direction?’ _

The black-scaled one in armour read it closely, and frowned. “The Prince is waiting at Inogo bridge for a Hylian such as yourself. It is that way.” 

“That’s...that was easy...” One of the red scaled ones muttered. 

Link merely nodded, and pretended not to notice them following him still.    
  
Epona followed him to the path, where the fourth Zora joined them, scales of a beautiful emerald green that Link rarely saw outside the depths of the jungle.  He looked to his entourage of Zora, and the Black-scaled guardsman only pointed towards the path leading upriver, into the rainstorm that hung above the cliffs.  All four of them were significantly smaller than he had expected - and painfully thin. Link didn’t disguise his interest anymore, and as a test, retrieved a freshly caught fish from downriver out of his pack.  As he rearranged it in Epona’s saddlebags, along with the rest of his catch, the two red Zora stared, lips pale and taut. The dark guardsman had to consciously tear his eyes away, whilst the final emerald-scaled Zora held his breath - gills flushed blue against his torso.  They followed him like starving shadows up the pathway, past the orange glow of a shrine.  A fifth Zora joined them, this one clinking under the weight of armour, trying to intercept Link before smelling fish and having to clamp her mouth shut before she could drool.

The bridge she stood watch over was vast, and the rain that fell upon them suddenly in sheets was vaster still. The water that surged down the river was a torrent, and Link knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Zora must have been close to exhausted just from having to swim up and down it.  The bridge glowed with wondrous artifice, and the Zora stopped at a distance as he approached. Epona whinnied, stamping her hooves in warning. 

Link stopped too, for he recognised the voice that called to him.    
  
“Say, hey there!” 

With a brief warning, the huge form of Sidon reared above him, rainwater splashing off his scales as he twisted and landed as graceful as a cat in front of Link.  But what he saw was new - Outlined in silver cuffs and glowing stones and woven gold - all proud feathers and pomp, yet still as naked as all the others were. This was not the garb of a guard. Link only knew of another person in his memory who could dress as such, and that was the Ghost of King Rhoam.  Link breathed out harshly through his nose. Scales were still missing in small patches around his chest and he bore no weight on one leg, though it was supported by nothing but his cuffs, and Link had to bite back anger. If he hadn’t known what to search for, he might have missed it. Sidon had watched him coming up the path, waited for him, even.

The huge Zora stood, towering above his compatriots by yet another two feet, and locked eyes with him, breathless and determined - all hints of clumsiness were gone completely. Perhaps, it was true, Link wouldn't have to pretend to know a stranger, after all.

The distance between them suddenly felt immeasurably large, as Link felt the silky voice wash over him, barely registering what the Zora was saying in response to his shock. Link thought he could see the edges of Sidon’s act - his body language was over exaggerated and smile too well practiced, but yet it was so smoothly entered into that Link had to wonder at the authenticity of the kindness that had underlaid his voice at every turn.  He longed to ask who Sidon really was, but to get out his slate now would be too rash. He wanted to trust the infectious smile gifted to him.  Instead he tapped his throat in response to Sidon’s request for a parley, and shook his head, perhaps a few moments too long in responding. 

“Ah, you cannot speak? I understand - Oh! Pardon me, I am Sidon, the Prince of the Zora.” 

Even if Link could talk he would have absolutely no words. 

The Zora held a pose, hand over heart, and cracked a smile of such bombast that Link was yet again momentarily stunned, memories of him shooting the same pose to the young children of Hateno rose, unbidden. Then he bowed his head in reverence, eyes hanging on Link’s stare too long in just the slightest semblance of a wince. 

Upon a written explanation, “Your name is Link?! What a fantastic name! Hmmm...though I can’t shake the feeling that I have heard it somewhere before…”

The Hylian struggled to not choke in shock, quietly glancing between his Zora shadows and the Prince stood charmingly upright. They looked at Sidon as though he were a precious thing worthy of reverence and protection, and Link came to the realisation that the Princely attitude was not for him at all, it was for them, his subjects. 

Sidon was performing cheerfully to reassure his poor, starving kinsmen. 

Link was showered with manly compliments and then asked the real crux of the matter; “I can tell by how you carry yourself that you are no ordinary person. Link! You must be a strong warrior amongst the Hylians, correct?!” Anyone else speaking such obvious lines might have come across as cloying, but Sidon displayed charm that carried the statement like it was the purest truth of all. Link shrugged and nodded, trying not to squirm at being called “Exquisite” and “Powerful.” His voice was perhaps a little too strained and husky.  Link promised that he would help with an embarrassed nod, placing his hands on his hips and trying to look like he knew what he was doing. 

Sidon’s excitement momentarily tripped him up - “You were indeed the man I thought you were!” but even with the half-splutter it took to get him back on track, their audience did not seem to notice.  And so the Prince launched into his plan - The cliffs were too wet to climb, and there were supposedly Lizalfos with Shock arrows dotting the way. The path upriver was too treacherous and steep to safely take Epona up, and Link was not strong enough to swim upriver. The path was their only option.

Link immediately shook his head and pointed at the group of Zora and the Prince. 

“We swim upriver? You’ll walk?” 

Link nodded, repacking his and Epona’s saddlebags for her to return to the stables, and his to journey into the storm. 

He fed her some of the vegetables he couldn’t take with him, and then, as casually as possible, offered the fat catch of fish he had lauded earlier.  Sidon noticeably held his breath as the Black scaled Guardman bowed low and accepted the fish gratefully, before handing them all out to the others assembled. Sidon turned down the several proffered to him.  All of them held their fish politely, pretending to be ignorant of the hunger. Link nonchalantly took out an apple, glancing at Sidon and bit into it with fervour, waving a hand at the guard to eat up before the fish went bad.  With the first bite, the Zora failed to eat their meals with decorum, ravenously devouring the fish. Not one of them noticed as Link stared unabashedly at Sidon, and the Prince met his eyes gratefully, looking between each of his assembled people with a pained fondness, his neck muscles like razor-wire.   
  
“Oh! That’s right! I have something I would like to give you! A drink that will increase your resistance to electricity!” The Zora pressed a bottle of yellow liquid into his hand. Link ignored the tickle of paper under the bottle and pushed the container into his pack for later.  He had another bag of salted fish he insisted the Prince took as something for the road, before signing something at Epona and watching her run back towards the sun-drenched delta behind him.  The Zora seemed elated, and all but Sidon readied themselves in the shallows of the river. 

“I shall go on ahead.” Sidon said, twisting through the air in a mighty leap upon receipt of Link’s okay. 

  
  


Link stood in delayed shock, as he watched the pod of Zora surge up the waterfall, and Sidon follow them with inexplicable majesty.

Prince.

**_Prince_ ** Sidon. 

**_Of the Zora._ **

_ Prince _ Sidon of the  _ Zora _ . 

Link flailed and swore at the bridge. 

**_A Prince?_ ** !?!  _ A Godsdammned Prince?!?! He’d been a fucking Prince the whole time?!?! _

**_The whole time!_ **

What sweet fucking bad luck he had! He had  _ nothing.  _ No information about the Zora in his empty memory space, and  _ nothing _ to suggest if he was going to get screwed over. And now he had to pretend not to know his  _ one  _ point of reference! Not that he was even sure which one of Sidon’s three fronts was the real one -- The monster with black eyes, the man with soft hands, or the Prince with the sunny smile?!

Which was the lesser of all the evils and why was it so fucking hard to call any one of them into question?! And the worst of it all- Sidon was a Prince, which meant there was a King - which meant that Link was about to meet a whole royal family of pushy handsome bastards that might also have multiple personalities and --- 

He ripped the bottle and note out from its hiding place and scanned it viciously. 

It simply said,  **_“I am glad it is you._ ** ” 

Link threw it on the dirt in frustration, spitting feathers and watching the rain soak the parchment. The loopy writing bleeding with the moisture. 

_ A fucking bastard Prince!!!  _

Then he huffed, the cold soaking him down to the bones. He picked the paper back up and placed it back in his pocket, snorting once and kicking the bridge for a last measure, before readjusting his pack straps and stomping off up the path like someone owed him rupees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, here it is :,D 
> 
> Thank you for all your support, kudos, bookmarks and comments. Honestly it's been wonderful having you along for my silly little fic. We've only got a few chapters left now, so I hope you can bare with me until the end :) Thank you!!!


	13. Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, but there's a fair amount of emotional turbulance, so let's get angsty, lads.

Under the weight of the stares that followed him up to the plaza of Zora's domain, Link struggled to remember to breathe. it had been hard to stay angry under Sidon’s constant praise and reassurance on the journey upriver, but his frustrations fell to discomfort as the great glowing tail of Zora’s Domain reared elegantly above him through the murk - the extra weight of countless lizalfos parts in his bag and on his tunic were unimportant to the fearful artistry that stretched into the cliffs and clouds.

So the Zoras stared, the young ones looked with Curiosity and distrust, the Elders in anger and bewilderment. He had walked into something that could no longer be solved with just a sword and his wits. 

Sidon seemed to notice their scorn too, and looked at Link with a mixture of worry and apology furrowing his face. Link so badly wanted to reach out and hold onto his wrist to support the weight of anxiety that was slowly building, but the knot in his gullet tethered his hands, instead he concentrated on the silver swirls of Sidon’s cuffs. They were so grand and suited Sidon so well that the idea of the Zora, naked and feral in the desert, ripping the throat out of the Yiga with his bare teeth seemed like it was a completely different creature altogether. The feeling of alienation and overwhelming fog slid coldly down Link’s spine, and he could see the trepidation in his face reflected in Sidon’s eyes. But the more eyes that were on him the faster he walked, and so in an act of Mercy, Sidon paced in front of him, taking the worst of the gazes from his eyeline. 

Sidon's back looked vast as he led the way into the palatial throne room of the King. They had spoken little, as strangers ought, so Link, with no prior warning, had expected that Sidon's father would be alike to him in size - he realised promptly that the Prince was but a fledgling. As the King spoke his welcome, the marbled floor beneath the Dias with which Link came to stand vibrated, and the King's great head nearly scraped the mighty ceiling, his regalia grander than his Son’s and his sash large enough to outfit an entire Hylian home twice-over in particularly fancy curtains and bedspreads. 

I am Dorephan, King of the Zora.” the King offered a confident smile and reviewed Links appearance with respect until his eyes met the object at his waist. Sidon left his side to stand at his father’s, and all at once Link was reduced to feeling naked and drowning in anxieties.

“...Is that not a Sheikah Slate?” Doraphan’s gaze swivelled, surveying his face. He leant forward, his great chains of office clinking, taller than Link on their own. The King mumbled, recognition dawning in his eyes and Link felt a surge up his throat. 

“You...are the Hylian Champion, Link…”

At an almost total loss at being caught out, Link merely froze. Sidon’s mouth clenched shut in recipience, and then fell open in alarm.

_ Fuck.  _ He hadn’t considered in amongst his anger at Sidon’s withheld identity, that he sort of, maybe, a little bit, had his own to think about.  _  
_

He had heard from Purah that Zora live very long lives - if anyone could remember him it would be the Citizens of Zora's Domain. Now, Link would be at the mercy of a prior reputation and preconceived judgements that he had no knowledge of, and from the King himself no less.

_ Fuuuuck. _

Yet he didn’t care about the King.

Dorephan launched into a hearty greeting, but Link’s attention was drawn to Sidon who tensed at his father's words, looking between them in barely controlled shock. His body shivered as he searched Link for answers, face contorting and eyes widening.

Link hung off his hitched breath with the last sliver of his sanity.

It took him a moment to stutter “--The...Hylian Champion--? Y-You can't mean--THE Link? ...THAT Champion?”

Link’s heart dropped like a rock. He  _ knew _ of him - worse yet, as the Prince and he stared at each other, Sidon’s facade crumbled, shock and tension pulling his chest inwards. He had tried to forewarn him at least a little, but the interruptions at Hateno, the Yiga-- Link shook the racing thoughts away - who would have believed him anyway? He hadn’t lied, so why did he feel ashamed?

Had they known each other, 100 years ago? Quintillion scenarios careened through Link’s mind until his eyes were welling with them and the hummingbird thumps in his ears roared, progressively louder and louder. 

Dorephan did not miss the way they stared. 

“ _ So...y-you--”  _ The Prince choked, before noticing his father, and becoming immediately aware of the discrepancy between his father’s knowledge and his own. He shook his head, avoiding Link’s gaze and forcing his back ramrod straight, nearly shouting his words. “So that’s...that’s where I’ve heard your name before! W-what a fateful coincidence that we should cross paths!” 

“Do you not remember me?” King Dorephan asked, quietly of Link. He only gave him a washed-out, lost look before he graciously continued, noticing the churning confusion in the room, “I cannot believe it. The Hylian Champion, Link, has appeared before us… We have met numerous times, I’ll have you know. Ah… So many memories! My mind is overflowing with nostalgia, my friend. I had heard a terrible rumour that you had fallen in combat, but it appears you managed to survive. Extraordinary! Yet, you look the same. Is that not impossible for Hylians? Your people grow old too quickly to have survived for so long.”

Link did not understand the nostalgia - every second he felt as though he were shrinking and the great shadow of the long-lived King enveloped him. Link removed his writing stone and parchment from its pouch, looking up briefly to share a worried look with the Prince. Sidon, for perhaps a moment, looked as if hope had rekindled in him, and hung upon Link’s every pen stroke.  The Prince stumbled forward, shakily accepting the letter. 

“Well, my boy? What has Link to tell us?”

Sidon spoke no louder than the rushing of the waterfalls.    
  
“He...writes: I have been s-sleeping all this time--” Sidon choked, and spent a moment unable to continue. “My memories are all gone.” 

The King leant forward, ignoring his son who was quietly falling apart beside the Champion; “But  _ surely _ you must remember my precious daughter, Mipha, yes?  _ You do, _ do you not?” 

Link looked up at Sidon’s trembling irises and towards his expectant father, panic cresting as he shook his head. 

_ Sidon did say he had a sister--  _

“I cannot believe it...Have you truly forgotten my dear Mipha as well? You and Mipha were so close...does her statue not jog your memory? Perhaps it will return in time. I dearly hope so.”

Sidon felt his heart stop, nails dug under the scales of his palms until he felt the warm rush of blood surge around his cuticles. Link’s expression was contorted so subtly - terror and torture disguised with shaky stoicism. The Prince schooled his expression as fast as he could, the silence of the throne room biting into him.

“Father...I...do not believe...discussing my sister is helping matters at the moment. Link seems confused--” He wasn’t the only one. 

Dorephan acquiesced “But it is worth noting how remarkable it is that Sidon brought a Champion here without realising it! That is quite a feat my boy!” 

Sidon could not look his father in the eyes, nor join him in his merry laughter or hapless pride. 

So the Prince fell back to his position at the King’s left hand, eyes fixed on a tiny crack in the metal shimmer of the floor, as Dorephan explained the predicament of the Zora people against the rain of Vah Ruta. How the fish could not swim upriver to their breeding grounds, and the food as a result had become scarce. How the great torrent of water would eventually swallow all of Hyrule - How they alone could not stop the Beast.

Sidon had felt quite irreproachable for hiding his identity from Link, but how the tables had turned - he could not imagine a better saviour for his people, and yet his ribcage tightened against his lungs. Mipha...his sister...history presented itself as palpable - so hard to swallow it that he could scarce breathe.

Muzu interrupted, blatant hatred on show, and Sidon interjected immediately before his head could tell him no, and without really listening to what the advisor had to say.

“We have no choice but to rely on the aid of---a trustworthy Hylian...Had we not already discussed this and arrived at that very conclusion?” Sidon paused and flicked a glance toward the dias, before taking a breath that made his gills flare. “He is the key to saving Zora’s domain.”

“Indeed! Link is a champion through and through.” 

The King continued to argue with Muzu, but Sidon watched the muscles on the hero’s jaw clench and unclench as he swallowed down a scream. The advisor spat at the involvement of Hylians, adding “It is their fault Lady Mipha was lost to us…” Sidon hated the way he turned from the dias and glared at the throne at the King’s Right Side, the space where the heir to the kingdom  _ should _ have stood. Something about Link’s reaction to the words looked as though he balanced on the precipice, ready to dive into the sea. 

The Prince cut in, making sure Link’s eyes were on him. He explained as slowly as he could, leaving their politics and the emotions from a past life out of the discussion, ending his speech with his hand above his heart and the biggest smile he could muster, sure as he was that it did not reach his eyes. 

“Link, I am certain you have already figured this out, but...I will help you in any way I can, of course… Please…” the Prince whispered, unable to say what he truly wanted to, yet his voice carried throughout the room, thick with struggle. “I beg of you. Help me stop Ruta’s rampage of destruction!”

Sidon was sure as they stared at each other, Link’s frame subduing trembles, that both their eyes were pinpricks against the dim light of the luminous stones. The Champion wanted nothing more than to run. 

The King tried to add more information, but Sidon gave him an imploring look that luckily quietened him. Muzu was too busy being angry, and so Link had time. 

The champion pulled his ink-stick from his pack, and began to write on his reedpaper. 

Dorephan waited, Muzu huffed. 

When Link finished his scribblings, he did not try to hand them directly to the King - instead, he gave the paper to Sidon, placing it in both his hands like it was a mighty weight, their index fingers slipping over one another.

Sidon devoured it as fast as he could. 

Link met his eyes upon his finishing reading, neither sure what to say. 

The champion merely breathed quietly and met him, nostrils flaring.

And so, Sidon abridged the information as best he could, so it was suitable for ears other than his own. 

“So then...Princess Zelda is still alive?” Dorephan exclaimed “I do not believe it...she was alive this whole time, just as you were! If we can regain control of the Divine Beasts...they may yet prove useful in sealing Calamity Ganon once and for all!” 

Sidon had barely looked up from the paper, breathing in Link’s words, unknowably buoyed and cast down by his nervous scrawl, his body felt torn in two directions, struggling to hold onto two ends of time and logic that should never intersect. He longed to pour over them all in private, to take Link himself to somewhere quiet and assure him that he had done nothing wrong -- but his gills sealed the cavity of his chest shut, the pressure building until he felt as though he were boiling alive from the inside. Everything they had done -- Mipha danced across his memory singing aching love songs for a far-off Hylian -- Sidon could no longer swallow, his tongue dry and teeth tearing at the sides of his mouth. And Link knew  _ nothing  _ of it? _ \-- _

Link ignored the King almost entirely, focusing on Sidon, who remembered that he should speak, still clutching his letter and trying to bite back his sorrow, trying to imagine Link fighting the calamity. “...I did not know you had such grand ambitions, Link...Wondrous...” The Prince stared, knowing that tears were beginning to well, no matter how he held on. He placed his hand over his heart and smiled, the strain in his face feeling like his heart would tear - Mipha’s love was alive, and Sidon had--  _ the hurt _ \--. 

He ached for the Hylian to look back, but all he saw of Link was watery and wide-eyed, clenched jaw and statuesque. 

Sidon made their excuses quietly. “Naturally, I shall help too.” Rather than motioning toward the reservoir, he tilted his head and pointed back down towards the freedom of the road. He said anything that might help them leave the room faster.

Link studied him tensely and acquiesced, looking just as desperate to leave, and now completely unfocused on the King, or the contents of the conversation. Barely registering the gift of armour bestowed upon him, nor the vicious words of Muzu.

“Countless generations of Zora Princesses have gifted that armour to the one they have sworn to marry!--Princess Mipha made that armour with her own hands! It is far too important to entrust to a shady Hylian!” he hissed.

The mentions of past princesses and shock arrows only seemed to make Link’s back straighter and his pale lips thinner, as Muzu stomped away. He watched as Sidon left, half to appease Muzu, half to give Link more time, and stealing a furtive sad look at Link who could only see his hazy impression out the corner of his eye. He looked ready to collapse.

Link barely waited a second longer for the King to finish his sentence before running from the throne room, willing himself away from the domain and to his horse. 

His mind teetered, the breath of a memory sweeping through his mind until it made his skull ache with the pressure of it. He didn’t want it. Whoever Mipha was, the way her name made Sidon’s jaw clench and his gills flare, the way he stole looks at Link as though a sword hung above his head - none of it felt  _ right _ . Ironic that he had wanted to remember so badly before - his previous life was a trap, suddenly closing in on him. His hands formed the sign for Mipha’s name instinctively -  _ he should not know it!  _ \- so he bunched them at his throat and ran faster, down the stairs, the stone slippery and air heavy with damp, until Sidon’s voice cut through it as clear as a seagull cry.

“Muzu…! Please listen...! There is something you need to know! He who stands here...the man called Link...is the one whom Mipha had feelings for!” 

His footsteps halted with the desperation in Sidon’s voice, and Link stared as the men argued below the statue. 

“I was only a child then, so I did not know it at the time. But it is so.” He looked up at the statue, shoulders pinched with pain. “I grew up seeing them together, hearing my father tell stories, some of which were about my sister’s undying love for a Hylian.”

Muzu spat. “You cannot fool me with such a fanciful lie. Not this Zora! How could Lady Mipha possibly have feelings for a Hylian like him?!” The advisor motioned to the statue and looked upon it with such love, that Link could no longer look away. “The facts are clear! He remembers nothing!”

The figure was paradoxically serene and oblivious to the debate below her, and Link’s eyes itched with recognition. The soft way she held her trident, the curve of her lips and the grace with which even her stone form held itself made his chest thrum with the ache of  _ something.  _ Something just on the graze of a fingernail, like he could almost reach out and just touch--

“It is the truth, Muzu. Though you never knew it, he was ever in Mipha’s heart--” Sidon whispered, voice harsh, his whole body twisting in shock as Link walked up, eyes frighteningly blue and lit from within as though Luminous stones themselves.

Muzu did not seem to notice his presence, instead treating him like he was not even there and continuing the argument with Sidon. 

All the Prince could do was hush him and hold up a hand, as wind tousselled the champion’s hair. His face turned to meet Mipa’s gaze and all the strain that had possessed him previously was blown away by the cold breeze. Tears gathered in his eyes and all pretense melted away. For a moment, he looked paper-thin. Just a reed swaying with the shifting of the world.

Sidon moved instantly to his side, his lungs tight. How much Link had heard, he did not know. But he had seen Hylians cry - Muzu would only understand their sadness to pertain to the loud, wet wailing of Hylian children, but Sidon knew that these were tears reserved only for the keenest kind of pain. He had seen them before on Link’s face, what felt like an eternity ago at Lake Hylia. A glowing flower and a hollow soul. 

“What is the matter, Link? What do you need?” Sidon gulped, looking at the Hylian’s lost face too closely. The Champion was eons away, plummeting through time, and all Sidon could do was take his chin and wipe the moisture away from his cheeks. 

Link’s eyes fell tiredly, and he looked at Sidon as though he had never seen him before. 

Muzu seemed to notice Sidon’s discomfort, before grimacing at the Hylian. “You are quivering like a hatchling...whatever is the matter?” He whispered, a hand aching to reach for him properly.

Link looked forlornly at Sidon and motioned to Mipha, before holding his hands against his eyes, head clasped and breath escaping in rasps. 

Muzu scoffed instantly “Do not mistake me for a fool, Hylian! There is no way you remembered her just now! When it is most convenient. Without solid proof I cannot possibly take you at your word!” 

Link shook his head and turned away from Muzu, grabbing Sidon’s wrist and staring at him desperately, unravelling at the seams. The Prince silently hated himself for wishing against all odds that Mipha’s gift was not destined for Link. But it would be worse to lie. The wound had to be brutal and quick, then the healing process could begin. Perhaps not for Sidon, but Link - he needed and deserved something better than his twisting heart and the weight of such wild complication.

“Everything...all of it is true. I’m so sorry, my friend.” He choked down air. “Would you...would you try on the armour?”

Link seemed to fulfill the request slowly and automatically - it gave him something other to think about - his shirt ripped over his head harshly and the armour replaced with reverence. Swallowing a sinking heart, Sidon watched as each scale fell into perfect place, Mipha’s handiwork settling upon its rightful shoulders. 

“Mipha made it for him, and him alone...” Sidon breathed, defeated. 

  
  


******

  
  


Link could hear Sidon chasing him across the bridge, away from the bright glowing citadel that made his eyes sting and his throat ache. The roar of the waterfall above made it all feel smaller - irrelevant, even. He ripped the armour off, the metal links clattering to the floor, and then thought better of it a moment later, stooping to pick it all back up and clutch it to his chest as Sidon drew in. 

He slowed to a walk when he could no longer breathe, and the Prince halted behind him. 

“.… I am so sorry I couldn’t tell you...I could have warned you, perhaps, if you knew who I was. If I had known who you were...” 

Link rounded on him, not knowing where to look, angry at the rain and the sky and the fucking Goddesses that sat up there pissing on him. 

_ 'I don’t know who I am!’  _

He knew Sidon meant every word of apology, as the Prince clutched his letter at his side. From the depth of his being it made him feel inside out. 

“I am so incredibly sorry - Your words...Link, I understand now. You owe me no explanations. I will do  _ everything  _ within my power to help you.  _ Please --  _ I know - I am sure I must have hurt you terribly in the Yiga hideout-- I know I cannot be trusted -- but  _ please _ , do not leave.” 

Link’s face crumpled, and he pointed to himself, quickly making a heart symbol, his fingers twitching with the effort, and then gesturing at the statue, just visible through the murk of the weather behind them. 

“Did Mipha really love you? You do not remember still? Yes, undoubtedly--...No? That is not what you were asking? Then… _ did  _ **_you_ ** _ love Mipha  _ **_back_ ** _? _ I-I… well…” Sidon gulped down air and tried to swallow the lump in his gullet. “Yes… Of course. Of course you did...I do not know if it was platonic or--...but...you were  _ always _ together.”

Link sagged.

“Come, my friend. Sister...she would not want you to feel sad--”, he stuttered. Link began trying to ask more questions in sign even he could understand, motioning back and forth between himself and Mipha, and interlinking his pinky fingers until Sidon understood. 

“Were you promised to one another?” Sidon gulped down the air pressure that threatened to consume him. “I do not know, the armour was left here with my father, never gifted. If a promise occurred then--  _ I do not know _ .” 

The Hylian backed away, pointing to himself and then Sidon, a wave of upset understanding crossing his face, defeat and horror setting in with every shiver, before turning hurriedly as if running from a ghost.

Sidon surged forward desperately, still limping a little, and  t ugged at his shoulder . Link only glared at him despairingly, trying to pull away. His panting echoing even in the rain as his hair stuck wretchedly to his face. “Link! Please! I am sorry I do not have all the answers! All you have to do is stay, and we will work--” Sidon’s hand slid down his rain-soaked skin, droplets running from his fingers over the goosebumps and down the shivering crook of his arm. The little hushed breaths and the clammy sweat on Link’s skin -- Sidon could smell it, like a hot summers’ day - the scent of him was so close and familiar--His grip tightened painfully, and the champion turned his face to him, wincing in surprise. 

There, crossing the nook of his collarbone and encircling the sweep of his neck - where it had been hidden by clothes - as Sidon had tried to hide his horror - were angry faded teeth marks - each dent nicked out like a little blistered heart shape.

The scent washed over him, of dry sand and copper and a body above him and--

_ Blue eyes wide and the skin across his back curved and taught in the moonlight - sweat and surging movement and the tang of blood across his teeth, the sweet supple slap of flesh, heat drawn to the surface and Link’s short, delectable gasps against his lips, the murmur of ghostly touches carefully tiptoeing between his ribs and up his abdomen in the Gerudo midnight... _

The Champion pulled his arm away, and Sidon could still taste the edge of  _ something-- _

_ Link sat, eyes lidded, splayed across him, teeth marks encircling his wrist and red rosy blush across every square inch of moon-stained skin. Saliva pooled in his mouth, the pain making his eyesight swim as Link gently drew them together, panting at Sidon’s hands against him and in him and around him, straddled over him and shuddering---The moment coming and the  _ **_taste_ ** _ flowing- _

His scales illuminated in hot, dreadful shame, and reflected like a terrible fire in Link’s eyes.

“Link...At the hideout...I am so, so  _ sorry --  _ ” Sidon’s  eyes inhumanly black as his fingers hovered over the pock-marks his teeth had left behind across Link’s neck, so paradoxically gently whilst wearing the stare that made the Hylian shiver - his redscale drank in the light around them, his teeth sunk into the sides of his mouth as he tried to hold back a pant of frustration. “My sister, the domain, the Divine beasts, Zelda...Myself, especially--I am so  _ sorry.” _

The Champion breathed out too harshly, the muscles in his shoulders so tense Sidon could feel their heat. Link knew exactly what the dilated pupils and the glow that lit his brow meant.

Sidon heaved, his hand wound around the choker at his neck like it was strangling him. “You--...Link --That bite --  _ those  _ marks --” He sank as his knees gave out, and as he collapsed he was eye level with the Hylian. But Link looked more worried for him than fearful. He did not understand. Sidon whispered. “I thought I might have...I hoped--it was just a dream---I -- how badly did I hurt you--?--I was--”

Link lent away uncertainly, but no denial came, only the tiniest tinge of red upon the tips of his ears, and a twitch of his lips. He looked at Sidon’s chest as heat and shame spread across his face. Sidon’s hands fell open, shock shutting down his breathing. Link grimaced, trying to catch his attention, but the Zora was lost. 

Mipha and this man - Sidon’s insides curdled. He had truly, truly hoped it was a dream. How  _ dare  _ he have done something so wretchedly foul to such a beautiful person? Worse yet, had he disgustingly defiled the body of the man Mipha may have never got to touch? Worse even still! If they had been promised to one another, or intimate then he had tresspassed upon his sister’s memory - And his own affection, and worst, worst of all, Link’s free will - how stupid he must be to believe he had kept his lust well hidden, even as far back as Hateno or Lake Hylia. To have gotten so blood drunk and so irresponsible - to have  _ hurt  _ him so savagely.  _ And to bite him  _ **_there_ ** _ , like they were lifemates--!!  _

Yet, the wound that bit the deepest was Link himself. Sidon clutched the reed-paper letter. The Hylian had no memory before - now he must have been beyond confusion. Caught between the pursuit of the present and now the weight and duty of the past life that Sidon, for a wretched moment, had wished had stayed buried. How lost his little Hylian love looked, and the more the Prince stared, the more he saw the scars of the past etched across them both. Sidon had hurt him - abused him - bitten him -- demanded the services of his sword, asked him to pretend to be strangers, then let the derision of the Zora elders land squarely on Link’s back. No wonder Link had levelled an arrow at him and treated him with such scorn at their last meeting. Sidon had practically stalked him. All along he had gotten the wrong idea about the little gifts and hoped there to be more between them than there was. All of it had been in his head. However could he truly compensate for such stupidity?

Unknowingly, he had slept with his Sister’s one and only love, had subjected him to the roughest kind of treatment - belittled him, and then openly pleaded with him to solve the problems of his father’s domain, all for what? A lousy apology, a few measly gifts and being subject to a romantic morality crisis? Sidon’s hopes for his toxic crush came crashing down about his fins.    
  
He had never hated himself more. 

He bowed, his Crest creased in sorrow and pressed harshly against the dirt.

“All I-I can think about is how much I h-hurt you-- And now This?! I--I have no words to tell you... Mipha too -- h-how  _ sorry  _ I am--...You deserve so much better…--Goddess-- What you must think of me. - - Link I'm so sorry... _ my friend _ ... --I--I--...I have no right -- I understand if you want to leave - but if I can somehow make amends, if there’s anything I can do to--”

The insistent hand on his shoulder forced him to sit back right into Link’s furious gaze as Link gestured angrily.  The Hylian growled noiselessly, and signed furiously, aware of how foolish his anger was.  _ ‘ _

_ Pay attention!! Why won't you stop fucking talking and listen?! I know you can't understand me like this-- just fucking try won't you?! Hear me!”  _

The watery light that gathered in Links’ eyes was all that was necessary to steal Sidon's words away. He watched wide eyed, every ounce of his attention centered on Link as a fixed point in the universe. None of it made sense. The Hylian took a deep shuddering breath and continued, despite knowing Sidon couldn’t understand his hand-signs.

“ _ I remember Mipha only barely, I’m fucking confused and I don’t know what to do with all of this  _ **_feeling_ ** _. But you didn't fucking hurt me, we were in the desert for  _ **_days_ ** _ \-- in that cavern--I tried to heal you and you kissed me back and-- and-- I  _ **_asked --- I asked_ ** _ you for it! I  _ **_enjoyed_ ** _ it Sidon, and when you didn’t remember us doing that -- I felt like I’d used you! I wanted distance, and then at the river--I realised I didn’t want that at all!-- and I'm sorry too. I can't even think straight and the only thing I keep coming back to--...” _

Sidon stared blankly, as if his brain had shorted out - Link could feel his ribs squeeze his lungs.

Link threw his hands in the air, defeated. Unable to even try to write these words down, his body, his mind, all feeling as broken as his memories. Link felt the wind blow through him, his body insubstantial. The water clung to his skin as the half-memories and pseudo-meanings did. He wanted to laugh, cry, scream -- feel  _ anything  _ but this mangled nail that had driven itself up through his ribcage and into his gullet.

_ “I wish you could understand what I’m saying! Why can't anyone understand! I don’t want to leave, and...”  _ Link clutched at his throat sadly, knuckles white and spasming, unable to look anymore, knowing Sidon couldn’t understand sign, and everything fell on deaf ears. 

He grabbed Sidon’s hand and spelt it out in his palm, pressing so hard that his finger left a pink trail in its wake. 

**_I want you._ **

He felt as though he were burning alive, flayed, cold and broken all at once. Nobody understood. Sidon had no idea.  But slowly Sidon moved, Link felt his gaze crash onto him like a searchlight. Sidon seemed to wake back up, his stasis quietly lifted. 

Sidon's mouth formed the words so carefully, curling around Links breath and ripping what little was left away with the cold breeze.

“Truly...you want me?” eyes imploring. “Link…All of this is... confusing -- 

A step forward, falling, and a hand brushing the lightest line up to the crook of an elbow suspended in time, waiting for some kind of permission to move. Delicate pads of fingers tracing hands. Link reached, every muscle straining upwards until he held Sidon's head in his hands and was kissing him like he could taste his salvation. 

And Sidon let him - a hand under a thigh, another between shoulder blades, bodies flush and mouths gasping for air. Fingers pressing into scale, brows peaked together in breathless reverie and rain soaked lips kissing each other senseless. As Link crushed them together, Sidon’s heart was tethered to the black stone of his failures and pulled aloft in the opposite direction by the shooting stars of his hopes. 

Even as Link’s body shivered, suspended in Sidon's grip, the Zora exhaled heavily in defeat.  Link felt every sinew in his body sing in frustration as Sidon put him down. 

“Please, look at me...I can’t.  _ We...we should take a moment to--...  _ What about-- _ ”  _ The panic in him was palpable. Droplets rained from his shoulders as he shook. 

It just made no sense, it wasn't fair. Link’s gut halted as the excuse that was ready to come out Sidon's mouth caught in his throat. That a moment could be stained by something a century old, and a wall of unintelligible feelings -- Link felt that who he was now was still just a phantom in comparison to the champion he was back  _ then.  _ He felt bile climb up his throat along with self-loathing and utter fury. Sidon winced as the Hylian struck him with a look so violent he receded away from Link’s flush body as though he'd been hit, hands still clasped together despite it. Link turned away, jaw grinding.

“Of course I want you. Of course! But don’t you think that…but-- I  _ hurt  _ you -- my father, and...what about Mipha? And our responsibilities and -- we  _ have  _ to at least think about it!--”

“What about her?!” He wanted to scream.

“--Let me make amends first -- should we not honour her memory too? -I--”

_ “What fucking memory?” _ Link ripped his hands from Sidon and began to sign furiously.  _ “I have no memory! I remember her the barest amount and even if I did remember everything, she’s still gone! She’s not coming back! Ever! And the truth is that once I go off on my merry way and fight Ganon, I’m probably not coming back either! We’ve already lost once before, Sidon! I—I don’t want to die!  _ **_I don’t want to die!_ ** _ I don’t want all these people waiting for me to save them all, I don’t want responsibility, destiny, death! Any of it! You asked me to help you and I was  _ **_scared! Fucking terrified!_ ** _ I want to wake up in the morning feeling like I don’t owe anyone anything! I want to see the light of day and not have to worry that it’s my last one! I want to look at Hyrule castle and have someone there to help me with all of this because I’m alone! I hate that Zelda is already there fighting - I hate how I can never repay Mipha, nor remember her - I hate that I know I have to go help because if I don’t I’ll die of guilt. I hear their voices and I see our Hyrule and I’m still just fucking  _ **_ALONE!_ ** _ — And the one time I don’t feel alone is with you - you think I don’t feel it? That I don’t know how twisted it all is? That I don’t know what I’m asking of you? I do — but I want you anyway. …It’s okay if you want to say no, but say no for yourself, not for her. I…what little I know, what little I remember, I just want to forget it all —and I hate…I hate myself most, that I’m putting all of this on your shoulders because I can’t—can’t just forget you. I enjoyed the pain with you! I don’t care you’re a Prince. You didn’t lie to me! I can’t forget any of this, and can’t remember anything important - Why can’t I just do as I’m told and go die obediently?!” _

He glared at Sidon, red eyed and breathless, the hot pool of frustration in his stomach bunching and coiling until he felt sick with it. His fingers flared. 

_ “The stupidest thing is, I’m saying all of this and you can’t understand a word. No-one can hear me.”  _

The Zora looked weighed down by a thousand Vah Ruta’s, eyes pinpricks of concentration. 

Then his hands moved, fingers pointed toward his chest.

“ _ I hear. _ ” His hands said.

Link felt the molten anger in his stomach extinguish and steam, the air coming out as a whisper of surprise. He choked, unable to stop his eyes from welling up in shock. 

Sidon’s hands continued - with no regard for the trembling of his soul - unsure and shaky, but clear nonetheless.

_ "Not. Alone. Not. Dead. I hear.”  _

Link gasped down cold air as the wave of blush raced up him - felt his legs quake under the weight of realisation. Should Sidon have moved, Link swore the vault of the sky might have cracked above him. A glass dome about him splintering until something sweet and light bled through the gaps. 

Link blinked away the tides, everything in him knotting and squirming with barely held tension. 

_ “You learnt to speak like me?” _ His hands asked.

_ “No. Learned to listen to you.” _ Sidon replied, his language choppy and stilted. He sighed, looking forlorn, speaking quietly and letting his hands clench in frustration. “I am sorry, I’m not very good at it yet - I understood a lot of what you said, but some of it is still lost to me. Now is not really the time to ask you to clarify language when everything you’ve told me — well…”

He swallowed hard.

“It has changed everything.”

He steadied himself, so he might look Link in the eyes, his arms lifted, as though he wanted to hold Link but the pads of his fingers were too afraid to quite touch him. His eyes swam, Liquid gold, and his expression was as lost as Link felt.

“Why did you not tell me? I would have never left your side for a moment had I known you were hurting—“ His gills flared as Link watched a whisper of sadness wash up his features. “It is just…You are so brave and quiet...” 

_ “How could I just say; ‘I’m the Hylian champion who everyone thought was dead, and we’ve only met a handful of times but you’re the closest thing, the  _ **_only one_ ** _ I have to--... but I have to go because I’m the only one left who can still  _ **_do_ ** _ something.’ Who else would have believed that? I am so terrified that you know everything - I’m scared you’ll judge me for not wanting anything to do with any of it.” _

Sidon shook his head sadly. “I understand what it means to be in a position you did not ask for. But Link, you do not have to -- Vah Ruta, our relationship - all of it - I do not expect anything from you. It is all an idle hope - And, in truth, I am worried that - should it go on--”

Link closed his eyes and shuddered, and Sidon paused. They both knew, but neither of them could bear hearing it.

_ 'Should it go on, I would not be able to stop.’ _

Link sighed as though he was crumbling.  _ “You learned sign for me.”  _

Sidon’s “Yes,” was half strangled. 

“ _ You couldn’t show it in front of the others because there’s no reason you should know sign.”  _

He nodded, “I’m sorry...I think Mipha may have known a little too, thinking back...but not enough.” hands hovering just above Link’s as if afraid he would disappear. 

_ "You’re struggling for your people, because they’re starving.” _

His concerns seemed so petty in the face of Sidon’s strength that all his willpower flowed away with the rain. Link wished for a moment that Sidon would just touch him. He wished he hadn’t learned to speak with his hands. He wished he could take all his words back. He longed to feel free. The rain continued to beat down.  He pushed Sidon’s hands back towards their owner and looked at the floor, resigning himself to falsifying bravery.    
  
_ “I will help you.”  _ He motioned, as if he had any choice in the matter. He gulped, but the knot did not pass. Two pairs of hands clenched and longing. Alone. Together. 

Sidon bit his lip, and they breathed quietly. “But not tonight. Tonight you must come with me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is by far the chapter I'm most nervous about (other than the smut), just because I ruined myself writing it and even having read it back a few imes, I can't tell if it's good (for my writing, at least) or not. :,D But also the next bunch don't make sense without it. Still, it's posted and done, and that's kind of a relief. Following the script of the actual game and trying to instill something new and fresh that you all hadn't heard before was a freaking TASK, and I'mma need a few months to recover before I try anything like it again. Also this is probably hilariously under-edited becuse it made me so nervous :,D 
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments, kudos, bookmarks and love on the previous chapter, much appreciated, and I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you for making it to the end ;3;


	14. Hold Back the River

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments from last chapter have just been astonishing, thank you so much for all your feedback and love! A nicer chapter this time, I promise, only a bit bittersweet around the edges<3

Sidon watched the Hylian disappear, soaked to the skin, into the stable. He waited in a daze until long after he had disappeared into it’s warm glow, scarcely noticing the lancing droplets. He lingered on his absence and wondered if Link took to everything just like he had taken to swimming like a Zora. 

The letter crumpled in his hand was smoothed and laid on a rock, shielded from the driving rain by his chest and head hanging over it.

It had taken so much effort not to read Link’s words aloud in the Throne room - how he poured over them now. 

_ Sidon, I’m sorry. I tried to tell you. I had no idea but you might have actually believed me - what with you being a Prince. I don’t know how to feel about that. Usually it sounds batshit when I try to explain everything, it takes so long and I can’t talk and I get frustrated, but you might have believed me -- _

_ Zelda is alive, she’s trapped in the castle. She’s still fighting Ganon, alone. She spoke to me when I woke up, just a disembodied voice. She told me to subdue the Divine beasts and battle the blights inside. I can only barely remember what she looks like-- I’m supposed to be the Champion but that doesn’t even feel real. All of this could just be a hallucination. I could just be insane - but the King  _ **knows** _ me. Impa and Purah know me. You know me. _

_ Now it’s definitely my job to fight all that malice, because now people  _ remember,  _ people I care about _ . Now I  _ have  _ to. Now I’m definitely  _ supposed  _ to be a Champion. _ I’ve been asleep all this time and forgotten everything and--- _

_ How do I even begin to try?  _

_ Can you explain to them for me?  _

**_Please_ ** _ Sidon _

The Zora wrestled his mind under control, staring at Link’s plea until he felt it with a keen clarity. His leg ached and his heart wanted to follow Link into the stable, but the champion’s command had been to stay put. Sidon was still technically recovering too - he was weak out of water, and should not be seen. Link just needed a stashed change of clothes. It was fine, surely.

He thought hard - all the spare, disjointed moments that suddenly made sense. Link’s quiet sorrow on the shores of Lake Hylia looking toward the castle, Purah’s involvement and near constant frustration at not being kept abreast of Link’s plans, his ability to fell monsters that should be unkillable.

The Yiga’s preoccupation was not with just Purah or the Sheikah, but with Link himself. Their efforts to kidnap Sidon made a whole lot more sense when coupled with his relationship with a  _ Champion _ . Link knowing where the hideout even was, in itself should have given Sidon every clue he needed. 

But then who would have guessed? A Hylian sleeping for 100 years? Princess Zelda fighting all that time? It seemed too incredible to believe. He had suspected something was amiss, but the depth revealed to him was bottomless. 

In truth, he had never held much hope for the future of Hyrule without a Champion. Ganon would eventually win, with or without the help of the Divine Beasts. The Hylians were the only species that could tolerate all the various climates of their homeland for extended periods, and now their settlements were so dismal, their peoples were weak enough that Sidon’s hope for a new Champion or diplomat to unite the lands was so dim that he would often avoid thinking about it totally. But to imagine that, after all this time, they were going to be saved --

Ah. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Sidon had believed that Link was strong enough from the moment they had met on that riverbank. 

Hope had been restored from the first glimpse of Link’s back and the Guardian that towered over him. Sidon remembered Hateno, the way they danced and drank, reading and talking into the small hours of the night. He had been free of despair because all his worries had been placed squarely on the shoulders of this Hylian. The Hylian who cried in the middle of the night on a remote island so nobody would know - the same Hylian who startled when asked to consider helping with Vah Ruta - something supposedly destined for him anyway - all of Hyrule, no less, depended on him. 

Link had nearly died a century ago. He had lost everything in the process. Of course he would not want to do it all over again. To even consider facing the Calamity alone struck terror into Sidon such that his fins flared. To be  _ destined _ to fight it or die trying - Sidon imagined how heavy that would feel. 

Sidon looked back up the river. Rain fell in his eyes. 

There had been rumours - rumours that Vah Rudania of Death Mountain had righted itself upon the basin of the Volcano and trained it’s gaze upon Hyrule Castle. At first, the voices were fearful. Was it listening to the ancient voice of the Calamity? Receiving new orders to destroy the Gorons? Weeks passed, and Vah Rudania did not break it’s gaze. Then the hopeful news had come - the Ghost of Daruk had been seen atop the beast, as if their souls had returned and were waiting, patiently for  _ something _ . 

The pieces slid into place with clear calm in Sidon’s mind. Link had already conquered Rudania and the blight within. It made perfect sense. The burns and wounds, his disappearance during Sidon’s stay at the Laboratory, the strange red boiler suit he wore after warping back. 

In his mind he saw Link crossing through the Rudania research and Purah leaving the room to look out the telescope, toward Death Mountain. Sidon had not conceived of her mood being a happy one - swelling with hope for Hyrule’s future -- and which Zora in their right mind would have thought a little, gorgeous, Hylian should be capable of taking down a Divine Beast or one of Ganon’s monsters? 

He promptly forgave himself for not knowing. He doubted that anyone would have realised in his position. 

Though perhaps, many would have been smarter than to fall in love with such a man. 

Love? Sidon thought quietly. 

He had to steer his thoughts back onto the right track when the swirl of the dance, the feel of lips and press of skin set alight to his mind, the luminous spots across his brow glowing with heat and longing.

Yes. Love. Of course it was, fool, moreso after all this. He loved Link before he knew he was champion, of c _ourse_ he loved him now, even still.

Well. He was now a doubly confirmed lovestruck idiot. 

So what was the plan? They were going to disable Vah Ruta, and then what? Link would leave to West Hyrule to conquer Vah Medoh and Vah Nabooris, and then onto the Calamity. At best, Sidon would be left wondering if Link was still alive. The faith he had was solid and unshakable, but Link was just a man, and despite all the amazing things he could do, he could not fly to meet Vah Medoh, nor swim through sand to defeat Nabooris. He was not invincible, but still the Calamity loomed. 

If anyone could do it, it would be Link, but Sidon wished it were otherwise with every fragment of his soul. 

And what was he to do? Stay in the domain and fix everything the floods had ruined whilst his love was out in the field risking life and limb? He loved his people desperately but even now it felt hollow and meaningless as a motivation. So did going with Link - he had already proven how useful he would be in the desert, and neither could he help in the sky. He was worthless to the champion. 

Except at home - in the Domain he was Prince. He was strong. He could carry the Hylian on his back and protect him. Link would never drown whilst Sidon was around. 

Mipha would have done the same. 

He thought of her, sat in the eaves of the throne room that overlooked the footbridges to the domain, weaving the metal with wire, or sculpting the silvered foils into place and humming a jaunty Hylian tune, waiting for her love to come back. She did not listen to Sidon’s complaining that he wasn’t getting any attention, only tutting and smiling at him periodically. He remembered the armour once she had finished it, laid out on the marble and regarded with fondness. 

Sidon wondered if they had danced and romanced in the same way? Was Mipha kissed and held with the same strength? Had she tasted what Sidon had taken? 

Now only the Zora Maille remained of her, and Link would have to go face a Lynel and then Vah Ruta, helmetless and only wearing loose climbing shorts. 

Sidon considered, and let an embarrassed sigh fall from him. To consider making Armour for a beloved was..- Goddess, he was in too deep, but this was making armour for a champion - and Sidon pushed down the well of feelings before turning back to the Stable and considering. His shame did not matter, and time would run out fast - Link must be protected at any cost. He could draw, certainly, but had not the feel for ceramics, fabric or metal work that his Sister had. It would take  _ days.  _ Did they even have that long? 

Nonetheless. It would be foolish of him not to at least try. Where they were going, Link would need all the protection he could get. He began running through his new to-do list, filled with a sort of melancholy purpose, and would ask for the materials from his father immediately upon his return, whether Link was with him, or not.  Dorephan, ultimately, would sigh with a low understanding, looking right through his son as he had once seen through his daughter, under the spell of the same man.

Spell was quite right, and Sidon covered his eyes as little, pert flashes of Link under the moonlight, blush colouring his ears and cheeks and-- Sidon bit the inside of his mouth and smiled giddily. Now he only wished he remembered more.  _ I want you.  _ Link had said.  _ I want you-- _

The object of his affections jogged out of the stable, looking up at him with a sort of tentative glow, as if Sidon had just wished hard enough for him, and lo, a beam of clarity in the rain.

They walked without comment at first. There were so many questions Sidon could ask, and yet they all fell over each other, fighting and scrambling to get to the front, so instead he said nothing. The dark of the early morning felt cloying and humourless, even as Link built a companion campfire.  They sat under the bridge, Sidon quietly sat with Link stilled under his chin, curled against him and staring out down over the river. 

He eventually turned to Sidon, looking unmasked, as a sort of vivid complication tied his expression. 

_ “When I defeat Vah Ruta I will have to leave.”  _ His hands said.

Sidon bowed his head, and then nodded, but still found himself asking “Why must you leave?”

_ “If I stay, I will not want to go.” _

Sidon understood, for nothing but the Prince held Link to Zora’s Domain. 

“Then take me with you to go to the Rito and the Gerudo.” 

_ “I...oh...um...I...already took care of Medoh and Nabooris.” _

...What. 

Sidon stared in awe as Link continued to explain, glad his head was atop Link’s so as to hold his mouth closed. 

“ _ Medoh was, um...well, just before the Yiga took you -- and Nabooris...well let’s just say that I was so angry after the Yiga and you were so hurt and Riju was there to look after you that...well, I just went and blew its feet up. And then blew the rest of it up. Honestly I don’t remember much about Urbosa but I’m real glad she’s got a sense of humour.”  _

Sidon, yet again, had absolutely no words. 

_ “Only Vah Ruta is left now, and though you can help me with that you can’t come with me afterwards, Sidon.”  _ Link fished around in his belt bag. What he produced was metallic red, silvery sheens of forgotten petals. Sidon’s scales.  _ “Stay here and live. You are loved in the Domain.” _

“You are loved too!” Sidon said passionately, completely forgetting his shock, grabbing his shoulders and turning him in one fell motion. “You--have you any idea how incredible you are? Forget the Beasts, forget Hyrule, you did all of this whilst I was sleeping, Link! Look at you! Who else would have been able to even get up in the morning under the weight you bear? I’ve had 100 years to come to terms with the responsibility of the Domain, and you’re here, not even out the other side of your doubt, and yet you’re fighting so hard and I--”

Link laughed, so suddenly that Sidon shut up as the edge of bitterness crept into his eyes. 

He reached for the hand at his shoulder and held it, looping his fingers through solemnly. The contact loosed the ropes that bound both of them, and the tension seemed to ebb away. 

They sat, holding hands in the rain. Looking out, down the path that Link would soon leave Lanayru by. 

His Hylian shivered, leaning toward the tiny pile of burning leaves, a single fire arrow poking out the smouldering foliage. 

The Prince threw a log onto the fire and Link shook his head abruptly, coughing in indignation. He flailed, and the tiny flames licked his hand as he pulled the log back off the pile. The knight was trying to sit up, and Sidon reached in to help him, protecting the back of Link’s head with his hand. The gathered wood fell in a heap, ignored. 

“I apologise - I do not know how to build a fire properly.” Sidon said shamefully. 

_ ‘Start small’.  _ Link signed, still unsure if Sidon understanding him was a blip in his imagination. He shook, but feebly pushed the logs in a loose circle around the tiny flame, the longer and thinner kindling placed on top, leaving room for the air to enable the fire. 

Link sighed, vapor solidifying in the air, and as if with that breath, the tiny smoulder caught on the sticks above it, and a gentle glow ate into the murk of the nook. Sidon sat in wonder, for it seemed to him that urging a fire was like raising a living creature. 

“Link, we have much to talk about.”

The light flickered in his eyes forlornly,  _ “What are we going to do?” _

“I do not know. But to be candid, I do not want you to leave. It’s all a little overwhelming - but you find me a grateful man, knowing that I have not hurt you as badly as I thought, and that you are still here with me. I only wish I remembered all of it, I would have--.”

He tried to ignore the dusting of pink across Link’s cheeks, or the way his eyes raked down his chest, or the quick dismissive wave of too quick fingers trying to deflect away from the topic. Link scrawled words to match any of the signs Sidon did not yet understand, with a haste that made him smile. 

_ “Why were you supposed to hide your identity? You tried to tell me at Hateno, and I’m not angry, I just don’t understand.”  _

Sidon smiled and indulged him, wallowing in the feel of their fingers laced together. “Firstly, I was not supposed to be as far out into Hyrule as I was. I am the only heir, but I can swim the fastest, so I was able to cover more water to hunt for food and a Hylian helper. Thus, the decision to stray was my own. Secondly, whilst I am unprotected, it would be easy to fall prey to bandits, and as we have now seen, Yiga, whom would seek me out if they knew who I was. Thirdly, Ganon. The Calamity is intelligent enough to send personalised threats after the champions, then if it knows anything about me or my father arranging for its defeat, we would also be in danger. The Domain has gone to great lengths to destroy all my paintings and mentions of my name or descriptions of me, so the only evidence of who I am is my title. Should I not reveal that I am in far less danger.” He stopped and looked at Link thoughtfully. “Father has also...put a contingency plan in place - since he is too large to leave the domain easily, if the situation became too dire, it would fall to me to lead my people out of Hyrule. Protecting my identity was a precaution, though looking back it needn’t have mattered - I was foolish and desperate enough to obey the rule without respecting the logic behind it, and I flung myself into danger anyway.” 

Link rested his head against their entwined hands and laughed, 

“ _ Where did you learn about hand signs? Purah? You said your sister knew a little?’  _ Link asked, his hand refusing to obey his instructions and uncouple from Sidon’s, which made his gestures sloppy and more difficult to read. It took two repetitions before the Prince understood, yet they still did not let go of one another.

“Yes, Purah and the books she leant me, but the more I learned, the more I think my sister learned for you too, a very long time ago. I think we used a little when I was very small and wanted to talk to her but people were watching, or when I was hungry, or sometimes when I was too embarrassed to speak - the more I think, the more I am struck by my own stupidity. How in Hyrule did I not realise you are  **_The_ ** Link, considering all your grace and talent it was so obvious-- but anyway, Mipha-- We would sometimes share little signs across the throne room so father wouldn’t hear us, or when I wanted to swim together.” His grin was wide, toothy and bright. “Did you teach her sign?” 

Link froze. Sidon stopped.

The truth was, he had no idea. Sidon let him go, so that he might think and sign, untethered.

Mipha’s face was clouded to him. He could remember the vague outline of her face, the curve of her lips and the way she turned her head. A faint memory of a time spent on Vah Ruta, her healing his arm with a gentle touch. He remembered snatches of water, Mipha’s shadow in the background of a memory in which Zelda featured. There was a hole in his mind where the Zora princess should have been. He scrambled through his thoughts trying to search for anything -  _ something _ to suggest he knew more than just her name and 5 minutes they had spent together before the war. There was nothing. Had he even known her as well as everyone said? There was just a dull ache in his head where there should have been  _ something.  _

He looked at Sidon’s golden eyes in shame. Even looking at her brother, he recalled nothing.  _ “I wish I knew.”  _ The earth between his feet was sodden and malleable.  _ ‘Everything I can remember...it’s only the things I needed to know in order to defeat Ganon. It’s as if the Gods won’t give me any more than that.’  _ He paused, gulping down the stone in his throat. _ “She’s missing from me.” _ The motions were so small, but they felt engulfing. 

Sidon brushed the top of his head as Link leant into him more. 

_ “Did you and I know each other? Why can’t I remember?”  _ He looked up at the Prince, hoping to find an answer there, but he only looked sad. 

“Yes, we knew each other. To reassure you, it is the same for me sometimes. She was my sister, but some days I struggle to remember her face clearly. The kind way she smiled, or how fierce she could be when she was angry. She used to be good at sculpting but I cannot remember her doing much of it. It was a lifetime ago. That she was so precious makes the fading of her more painful. Muzu tells me that Zora have long memories, but some days, all I can remember is that she is not here. My father always believed that she would return. I wanted to believe, but...” Sidon bit his words in contemplation. “She would not resent you for what has happened, even if you cannot remember. I believe she was very special to you.” Link looked ashamed, so Sidon continued. “When you first came to us, I was barely 20 years old. A hatchling. My sister was already fully grown. I don’t remember your face, but I remember you being imposing - not as much as a Zora but everything about you was dangerous and exciting...Then when you visited after becoming the Wielder of the Sword that Seals the Darkness...I think I was likely jealous of you.”

Link looked at him incredulously.  _ “What? Why? How?” _

“You held every inch of Mipha’s attention. She was the sister I adored, but she only noticed you. Eventually I understood why. I remember looking up at you...up  _ to  _ you. You showed so many Zora how to fight - you must have been a sight to behold with a sword - Father still teases me about how I spent nights on the reservoir practicing with a mop, pretending I was going to slay Bokoblins.”

Link could not help but laugh at the image of a tiny Zora stealing from the cleaning cupboard. A cough forcing its way out his throat, replacing the laugh. He realised they’d stopped tending the fire and he fiddled as he urged Sidon onwards with his story. 

“But then I saw how happy you made my sister. She sang more when you were around, that I remember. She used to tell me how funny you were...and then finally when I danced with you in Hateno--Goddess, how could I  _ not know--. _ you- you used to look so tall from where I stood. I suppose I didn't recognise you upon your return to us because I had spent so long looking up at you. It did not occur to me that I had outgrown you. It only just occurred to me that I'm now far taller than Mipha ever was. I suppose all I’ve ever done is look up at her statue.”

Sidon paused for breath, looking at Link and smiling despite the sad content of his speech. 

_ ‘I feel small all the time nowadays... Am I still the same person?’ _

“Small and yet so Mighty! Unmistakably so. You are definitely the person that I admired back then, it is only that I know you better now. When the rest of the Zora accused you of taking Mipha away from us...Well, by then I'd learnt to respect you. I couldn't resent you for her loss. Then when news of your death reached us, I remember feeling bereft because losing you was the one thing that Mipha absolutely couldn't bear either. You were my hero Link, no matter how frayed both our memories are; you still are, no matter what you choose to do with Ganon or Ruta.”

The Hylian’s face met Sidon’s in disbelief. It had never occurred to him that the Prince might look at him as a hero, or that he could inspire such love in someone as beautiful as Mipha. It made little sense to him. It seemed strange that someone he held in high esteem would openly admire him back. And what of Mipha?

_ ‘Did I really...love Mipha...the same--?’  _ He felt Sidon's body halt beside him, cutting him off, and the shark looked down at him, pensively.

He grinned widely, having thought for a heartbeat, and Link for a bright moment truly believed that Sidon did not resent him in the slightest. “I believe you did. Perhaps it wasn't in the way that she wanted to be loved, but the two of you definitely shared something. If it was enough to make even my pure heart jealous, I believe it was the very best kind of bond.” 

He was going to ask “Did I love Mipha the same way I made love to you?” He was grateful for the interruption, dreading the answer. He supposed in the end, it probably didn’t matter as much as it felt like it should.

_ ‘I think anger and jealousy might have made you better at setting fires than pure heartedness can.’  _

Sidon pouted indignantly, returning the false teasing look that Link wore. 

“Well you can teach me the art of Fire and how to dance properly then!” Sidon spoke enthusiastically, easily persuaded from pitying Link, perhaps getting a little carried away in the moment.   
  
Link blanched.  _ ‘...You’re a lot bigger than me, and you’re not going to be drunk this time--” _

Sidon, over-enthused and much too loud, cut him off, leaning in and clenching a fist in excitement. “Nonsense, the great Champion has defeated monsters larger than I, surely you could teach me to dance sober?”

Link’s eyes bulged and he let Sidon jostle him with a shoulder.  _ “This Great Champion doesn’t even come up as far as your armpit on tiptoes!” _

But Sidon would hear no more, a glint in his eye and his fist hovering over his chest.  His trademark pose tugged at some string of meaning in a misused corner of Link’s mind.  He rolled his eyes but something in the moment made him consider Mipha, cross-referenced against the gesture. 

_ ‘Did...did Mipha teach you that sign?’  _ He copied it, without the dorky smile to show Sidon what he meant. 

Sidon put his hands on his hips in pride. “It is a sign? I did not know! She always did it when she saw me, and I thought it looked like such a valiant greeting, so I confess I copied her--wait, it doesn’t mean something, does it?” 

Link frowned, as it thinking about its meaning, then his eyes grew wide and he stared at the Prince. To Sidon’s dismay, he lowered his head as if in defeat, his shoulders shaking like ripples in the water.

“My friend, are you alright? Does it mean something sad...or rude, again??”

Link’s laughter hit his ears, breathy and silent, the Champions shoulders hunched as if he were trying to contain the absent noise. His guffaw turned hastily into a coughing fit as his throat could not support the sound. Sidon felt himself laughing along too, even though he was clearly the butt of a joke somehow.

“Please tell me! It  **is** something rude, isn’t it?!” 

Link shook his head, but didn’t answer the question further, choosing instead to soundlessly chuckle at Sidon’s expense.

Sidon, however, was thinking about his sister, placing her customary hand close to her shoulder and then kneeling down to greet him. This was his -- solely  _ his  _ sign, so in truth it did not really matter what it meant, though he  _ was _ curious. But she had one for Link too - two signs in fact, much to his younger self’s jealousy. He looked up at the sniggering Hylian straddling his stomach and wondered if Link remembered them? When Mipha thought of Link, she always put her hand over her heart. Sidon knew that one meant ‘Mine’. Perhaps it was the only part of his sister that had ever been possessive, and yet she did not pursue the Champion doggedly. He admired her for that. He had seen so many others act with a fierce jealousy when it came to love, but Mipha’s affection was patient and kind. He had no doubts that should Link not have loved her back, he would have eventually reciprocated her feelings had she survived Ganon’s blight. 

The other sign, like the one he had inherited from his sister, he did not know the meaning of. 

“Link, can you tell me what this one means?” 

He clasped his hands together, over the centre of his chest, thumbs overlapping. 

Link stared at it, sideways. He knew that one, like a half-remembered word on the tip of his tongue, and when the knowledge crept into his consciousness, the thoughts halted his chuckling. 

_ ‘That one isn’t part of the same language. It’s a Diving signal, for when you’re underwater.’ _

“What does it mean?” Sidon asked, taken aback.

_ ‘Hold on to each other.’  _ Link looked sad, somehow.  _ ‘It’s to stop two people from getting separated by the current.’ _

The Champion had understood the sign had come from Mipha, somewhere in Sidon’s past, but Link no idea it was solely for him --- everytime she considered her future, and everytime she cast a spell for him, it was that sign.  _ Hold on to me _ . When he walked away from her and she stared after him, it was that very sign.  _ Hold on to me.  _

Mipha had been clutching so desperately at this man when the current of life was determined to rip them apart, and she sacrificed everything to keep chasing his shadow. Link’s destiny had owned him, before Mipha ever could, yet she had been content with supporting him and making sure he did not suffer where he did not have to. His poor, beautiful sister. Sidon could not contain his anguish, and he had to turn his face away and blink the despair from his eyes. He could see why the elders might blame Link, but he could not abide the thought of her love being disrespected by so many people. Had they known the depths of her loyalty and affection toward this man, they never would have gotten in his way. But more than that, Link had proved to them all without a doubt that he was deserving of that love. 

Sidon looked back up at him, and smiled goofily to try to master his sadness, but it seemed as though Link saw through it. He was not a good liar. 

“Seriously, you must tell me what this sign means!!” Sidon chortled, replacing his hand over his heart with gusto.

_ “I will tell you after Vah Ruta.”  _ Link sighed, looking out into the murk with a complicated smile on his face.

_ “Look.” _ Link pointed as his eyes lit. Above the canopy of thick raincloud, scorching a bright pathway through the rain, a light flared. It shot a hole through the mist and exited, barrelling toward the ground, it’s luminance flickering against Link’s skin.

Link and Sidon both followed it’s arc. He smiled against the rivulets dripping down his face from his wet hair.  _ “Make a wish.” _

It struck the river with a mighty splash, skittering across its surface and illuminating the water with ghostly green-white hues. Link remembered the light that had led him to Sidon’s note and the Yiga’s talismans. Another star that had guided him back to Sidon’s side.

_ “Keep him safe.” _

“Don’t steal my wish.” Sidon chided, chuckling, looking at his companion who shook his head resolutely. 

The Prince let go of his hand and moved out from under him, leaning out of their perch among the rocks beside the bridge. “Fine then. I shall steal it back.” He backed up a few paces. With a scant few steps, he leapt over the handrail, body arching toward the water. 

Link’s breath hitched, before hurling himself up the bank, atop the bridgeside and throwing his glider open. The rain beat upon the canvas and into his eyes, but he saw Sidon hit the river and disappear smoothly. Despite himself he laughed, snapping open the sail wider - his elbows complaining with the force. Sidon swam, faster than Link could glide, and as the toe of Link’s boot tipped the water, The Zora snatched the glowing rock from where it glowed beneath the surface, a breath away from sinking.  But the current had already gotten a hold of Link, even as he swam, his new armour and swimming practice were not quite enough against its pull. Sidon looked for him, and found him easily, his grin lit by the star. 

“Hold on, we can consider this a test run.” He guided Link onto his back, kicking lightly against the current until Link could get settled. 

They shot upriver, faster than Sidon had pushed him on those hot summer days, what already felt like years ago. Link’s legs ached with the punishment of the current.

“I want to keep you safe, and then you go and jump into the river. What are you trying to do to me, dear one?” The Zora panted, mirthfully. 

“ _ You won the star. What do you wish?”  _ He spelt on his shoulder blade gently as Sidon surged under him.

Sidon didn’t answer, and swam harder, back toward the Domain, the first waterfall threatening in what felt like no time. To Link’s surprise, he did not ascend, instead swimming through it. Link gasped down air and turned his face away from the torrent, before emerging on the other side, feeling battered and soaked. The great rock that walled in the water was pocked with a thousand tiny caves. Some might have had Zora or monsters in them, but with the veil of the falls and the quiet stoic rocks, Link felt shrouded and safe. 

He let Sidon carry him up to a precipice, a cave that sat deep and cosy and central to the face of the falls. The light of the meagre dawn glowed a quiet, brave shade of blue, and the star in Sidon’s hand flickered hopefully as he sat, Link curled into his side, not quite prepared to put space between them yet.

The rush of the waterfall and the pleasant silence between them was precious, a cacophony to override all thoughts, and a peace, though temporary, wards off all worries.

“Link, ignoring all that is expected of you, what do  _ you _ want to do?”

The Hylian regarded his contemplative face with gentle closeness. He’d already confessed to wanting Sidon once - to do so again would make it  _ A Plan _ , and it wasn’t what Sidon was asking anyway.

The truth was, beyond this silly little love affair, he didn’t really know. He wanted Hyrule to be safe. He supposed he had been so wound up with the prospect of losing his life in the struggle that he hadn’t really thought about what to actually  _ do _ with it, should he survive. He had so many dreams and no real idea of how to execute them, but he supposed anything was a start. 

Sidon waited patiently for an answer, and Link was sure he would be forgiven even if one never came. He sat up from Sidon’s shoulder, the place where he would like to be found most often, in these next days, the heat swarming about his face now it was not leant on the cool Zora scale.

_ “I don’t know. I bought a house in Hateno on a whim, I thought about making it my home. A home would be nice. I want to treat Epona to some carrots, plant some trees. I’d like...to maybe travel some more. See what’s beyond Hyrule. But I want to come back too, I think. Make some friends... I don't really know what I want yet.” _

Sidon held his hand once he’d finished speaking, before looking out at the curtain of water that hung around them. He lifted the bright star to his lips, grinning into it’s glow. 

“I wish” Sidon began, “that Link will get his home and achieve all that he wants. I wish that he returns to me safe and sound, and gives me back this star.” 

He placed the glowing gem back in Link’s hands, his smile so tender that Link’s heart hurt to look at it. 

_ “That’s two wishes.” _

“They are one and the same to me.” Sidon whispered, leaning into his side. 

Link turned the star fragment between his fingertips, feeling it’s warmth. 

_ “Stalemate.”  _ Link smiled sadly.

“Sorry, I do not understand what that sign means.” Sidon said. Link waved him away. 

His chest constricted, for the more he considered it, the more the word seemed appropriate. If the ceiling broke and all the water and the feelings rushed in - the words left unspoken crashed into him, he would drown in them. But above them the world loomed, and they couldn’t stay here forever. The rain did not fade, but in moments like this, it was worth taking down the canopy and dancing in it. 

He wondered in the quiet echo of the cave how the domain would look without the torrent - how Sidon would look without the dark lines around his eyes and the dryness to his skin and the patches of scale missing - how much happier he would be beyond the worry of his people starving. He wondered how glorious Sidon might look upon his father’s chair, towering over his subjects with such a glowing and confident smile - how large the Prince might become, both in stature and in legend, and Link spared himself a small chuckle - the thought of the poor blacksmith making such great regalia to adorn the King and the Prince with - having to measure in door-frames and fathoms for size.

The Star Fragment glowed across Sidon’s tired smile, and Link quietly wished to live. Just to live long enough to see the big silly Prince and his silly King’s ornaments, sat on a throne and  _ maybe _ sharing a look with him - just a small one, of affection without confusion, the way they did now.  How was it that behind these walls of stone and water, the complexities and ironies seemed to just wash away, like Melon rind downriver. Like summer sweat in the swell. Like blood and tears in the rain. 

With great force of will he made himself stand. The star was placed, securely and carefully in his lover’s hands, and he turned to Sidon, whose scales glowed warmly in the blue light, the space between them hazy. His back was wind-bitten with a cold peaceful ache.

_ “I...I think I got most of what you wished for already, so hold onto this for me. Let’s... go get that Lynel first, then onto Vah Ruta. I can have the rest of that wish afterwards.” _

Sidon smiled, and tucked a wet strand of hair behind his ear. “First, you rest. Then, only if you are both ready and willing, shall we go face it together. I swear you will not be alone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, I've got only a couple of nerve-wracking chapters to go and then this fic is wrapped up. I don't want to leave it behind yet, there's a lot of feeling here that I've enjoyed writing but also I hate stretching fics out for the sake of it, and this one has also been needlessly fluffy in places that probably didn't need it, so I should probably do the right thing :x I think I'll mostly miss your guys comments, I feel like I've made friends here and I don't really make friends very easily :,D
> 
> Nonetheless, we've still got some fun stuff to go. Thank you for reading this far in and sticking with me the whole way. Thoon it will be complthethe<3 Big love!


	15. Running Through the Night

The Domain had welcomed them back quietly, and Sidon had given Link all the time he needed. Days and days, in fact. 

Though he had promised Link he would not go alone, Link had snuck out in the middle of the night to steal as many shock arrows as he could carry. In truth he already had enough from his prior travels, but the thought of a Lynel anywhere near Sidon and the Zora made Link’s blood boil, and so the big furry bastard had succumbed to his sword, Link shovelling the guts and horns into his bag just in case. He had left Sidon a note, already knowing that Zora would forgive him, especially that Sidon had been sneaking out of a night too, with Link waking to his hips missing Sidon’s hold, and the breath that should be ghosting his neck curiously absent. Link imagined Sidon has some more confessionals for his sister - the one time he went to go find the Prince, there he was, in the middle of the square and speaking with his sister. Bazz said it was a nightly habit for Sidon. And so Link let him be with his quietude and memories. 

They had both agreed it was all very sudden, this squirming twisting intimacy and trepidation. The time they needed to straighten the mess of feelings and work through the myriad of mistakes that plagued them was running out. Trying to plan anything between a world-ending calamity, a Domain to protect, a beast to slay and the threat of death, felt rather too much like a false hope. But still, the feeling had, much like this shooting star through the storm, allowed what was natural and bright to finally shine in the moment, and to be thankful for it in the present. To live, as though each stretch of muscle was the last one. It was all that could really be asked of them. So they held each other regularly, kissed desperately, and thanked those quietly who turned a blind eye away from their harried devotion.

The night was glowing murky blue with the dawn’s promise when Link finally descended back to the domain, a few hours later, his quiver stuffed with Shock Arrows. Sidon was not waiting for him, and the rest of the Zora were quietly trying to sleep in their pools as he tiptoed by, the drumming of the rain cacophonous. He pushed away disappointment. The Lynel had etched a new scar across his calf, but he barely felt the sting of it. He had already made some tentative friendships amongst the people here, picking out the faces as he crept. Many of the Zora remembered him fondly, and had taken great care in re-introducing themselves as gently as possible, especially Kodah, Bazz and the other Guards. He almost felt like he’d not missed 100 years by the time they’d finished dining together the night previous. 

But for a hollow ring of metal striking metal, dulled by the hammering of rain, the silence stretched, windless. A Fight? Sidon wasn’t here--

He took off running, and the whine got louder - heavy swings in a regular pattern, and Link slowed. No, not a fight. A Blacksmith? This early? 

The plaza of the Domain glowed blue, as if the colours of the sky and the guiltwork were reversed. The only light shone coldly from the rightmost establishment, and the ringing emanated from there too. 

“Stop rumpling that. Lay it flat. You are too flustered. Stop and take a moment. If you’re pitching a Hylian against Ruta then you must get it right. You’re nearly done. Don’t ruin it now.”

The old gruff Zora did not notice Link’s quiet approach, and neither did the Prince, who craned over whatever he was working on with his shoulders bunched around his ears.  Sidon didn’t say anything in reply, merely sitting back up and sighing.

Link watched them work, not minding the rain nor the shivers that kept him lucid. It was calming. Familiar. Just watching his world go by. Sidon eventually held up his work and frowned.

“Despite rushing, that looks worthy. Any Hylian should be proud to receive such a gift.”

“It’s not simply a sweetheart’s gift, Dento.” He rumbled. 

“Not simply.” the older Zora gestured dismissively, and Sidon glowed in embarrassment. “Your sister was the same when she came to me. Your Highness, why are we not making the Torso Armour to complete the set?”

“Father has gifted him Mipha’s work. Now it is in the right hands.” 

Dento stilled, grumbling. “I don’t like it.” 

Sidon leant back, clutching the fabric. “He must survive, at any cost.”

The elder resumed his hammering. “It is what Mipha would want, I suppose.”

“It is what I want.” Sidon said, softly. 

Dento seemed to consider him, before his old eyes focused, settling on Link stood dripping and alienated out in the rain. He eyed the shock arrows spitting sparks, Mipha’s armour hugging his limbs lovingly, and then looked quietly back at Sidon, who was too engrossed in his work. 

“Well then, champion, you better come in and try this on.” 

Sidon’s head shot up, and he stood as Link climbed the steps. 

“You are back! I am relieved -- so many arrows! Well done my friend!” He nearly reached for Sidon’s hand. “Dento and I have been making you something…”

“He’s been making you something. Nothing to do with me.” The blacksmith groused. 

Sidon’s brow glowed pink, and with a bit lip he held a helmet forward, it’s silver glinting in the green light. It was simple but beautiful, and Link slipped it on. It fit perfectly, and it looked at home with Mipha’s already made handiwork. The only clue that it was not of the same set was the slightly less shiny finish to the protective plate across his forehead. 

Then Sidon held out leggings. And Link didn’t think twice about stripping out of his climbing shorts and into them. They were tight fitting and comfortable, but the material was thick and rubbery. Perfect for ease of movement and robust enough to take some hits. 

When he looked down at himself, he looked somewhere between Zora and Hylian - the armour glinted proudly and the scales that flattered his sides made him look like a champion. He bit his lip and bowed, thanking Dento and Sidon. One regarded him cooly out the corner of his eye, whereas the other looked at him plainly with open admiration and care. 

“They fit, I am glad. You look handsome, Link.” 

Dento rolled his eyes and pretended to go back to work. “You and Mipha, hearts on your sleeves as always.” 

Sidon ignored him, but his luminous blush brightened. 

_ “How long have you been working on this?”  _

“Only whilst you have been asleep these past few nights.” Sidon smiled. He did look tired. They paused, and the rain drummed upon the ceramic.

_ “I’m still not ready to go yet.”  _ Link signed. 

Sidon breathed out gratefully. “I am not either.” 

They walked out of the little shop, quietly thanking the elder, and went where their feet took them. 

Conversation meandered, avoiding the topic of their next glorious triumph, and the dread of what came after. Eventually they settled under the little pavilion that bookended the bridge, leading up into Lanayru’s heights.

Link was, as always, impressed by how Sidon was extremely well read, but did not take his knowledge as sure fact - Sidon had seen much of Hyrule, but had little real world experience, and his curiosity was boundless and insatiable. They covered topics at a speed which surprised Link - with Sidon markedly improving at reading his sign almost by the minute - everything from favourite meals, to herbs and hunting, to research and technology, to clothing-- 

‘-- _ and all the children are dressed the same, regardless of gender. There’s very little difference in their clothes once they’ve grown too. Considering the Sheikah are also Hylian of a form, it’s nice to see that we’re both so different. From what I remember, Zelda was stuffed into dresses constantly, she only got to wear trousers when she was away from the castle. It’s nice that tradition has changed in the last 100 years.’  _ Link finished.

“I suppose the Sheikah are to Hylians, as Deep-Sea Zora are to us? I am confused though, Link -- I believe you wore Gerudo Vai attire? If Hylians look down upon that sort of thing, why did you do it?”

Link’s ear tips Flushed a furious shade of red, but he grinned.  _ ‘It was a disguise to sneak into Gerudo Town. As you might have heard they don’t allow men there. As it turns out I think I looked great as a woman because they kept letting me in. A shame the silk got torn.’  _

Sidon chuckled, peach glow flaring, struggling with only a scant few of the signs. “A shame indeed, I would have loved to... _ remember _ you wearing them.” Links face heated with the innocent remark. “Though I am still confused by the concept of clothes as a whole. I don’t really understand why dressing as something else is wrong? The only distinguishing thing about Zora clothing is what class of Zora you are. Armour is for soldiers - sashes, cravates and epaulettes are for nobility, that sort of thing. Lower classes often have sets of family jewellery that rival the ones I’m wearing now, so even then it doesn’t mean much to us. Beyond protection from the cold and the sun I don’t see the benefit to judging someone by their attire.”

_ ‘What  _ **_do_ ** _ you judge them by?’ _ Link asked earnestly.

It was Sidon’s turn to have colour in his cheeks. “Well...it’s usually rude to talk about it but...musk.” 

_ ‘You mean...like a smell?’  _ Link’s mind flew to other places in a mad scramble.  _ ‘Like deer leaving scents?’  _

“No!” Sidon squawked. “Well, yes. Sort of. Oh  _ Goddess _ .” He shifted uncomfortably. “It’s a personalised set of pheromones that living creatures release. To us it's more like an individual flavour. You can tell a lot of things from someone’s musk - who they’re related to, where they are from, what they’ve eaten most recently, whether or not it’s their season--”

Link felt his eyes bulging.  _ ‘You...you basically lick the air around people so you can judge them? You can tell when someone is needing a rut?’ _

Sidon flushed a shade of deep purple. “Well, sometimes--Yes--sort of...uh...That’s one of the reasons why it’s rude to talk about it!…We don’t lick anything either.”

‘ _ Ah! Sorry,’  _ Link signed, hurriedly changing the subject, trying to stifle a laugh at the ramrod that seemed to have inserted itself up the Prince’s back. ‘ _ So where do you do this musk detection thing? Is it like my nose?’ _

“Where? Oh! You mean my Olfa? Well, that’s this--” He motioned to the pink stretch of flesh above his mouth. “Kissing is a special act for Zora as the Musk centers touch, and it’s very sensitive and quite pleasur---”

Sidon smiled uncomfortably and stopped himself, as he focused on Link’s lips, his hand shooting back into his lap.

Link felt flashes of sunlight on closed eyelids, hands gripped around his thighs and the soft bite at his ear, a breath whispering his name, feral and sweet. 

Sidon’s scales glowed, a low moody orange, and he seemed, for a moment, to look impatient with himself - the hope was easily hurt but hard to diminish. The aura between them was so comfortable, but nothing of the future was said in case the spell of the present shattered. He tried not to let the craving cross his features, but more questions crossed his mind, so he started with the least intimate. 

_ ‘Wait, do other species have these pheremones too?”  _ Link’s nose could only smell the metallic tang of the Luminous stones that glowed pleasantly around them, and he tried to imagine what it would be like to be able to sense in the same way Sidon did. 

“Yes, though it depends what species. Zora use it for hunting and finding each other in large bodies of water, plus we have very few foreign visitors in the domain. I admit I haven’t experienced many other species’ musk unless they’re intended for my dinner.” 

_ ‘What about me?’  _ He asked quizzically. _ ‘Do I smell funny? If I do, you must already have my musk, right?’  _

Link felt as though he was stepping on some kind of cultural taboo seeing the embarrassed look on Sidon’s face and the peach flush rolling up his body, but the Prince humoured him nonetheless, moaning through the gaps in between his fingers. 

“I...I--yes...uh--oh Hylia--I’m trying not to take notice too much.” 

Link frowned in surprise.  _ ‘Is it really that bad?’ _

“No! Nononono!!! It’s not that, it’s-it’s just that because to us it is  _ rude.  _ You’re supposed to  _ ask  _ first and I got your Musk-- Plus once you’ve got a pheromone recognised it’s very easy to identify it again, even from miles away. Our Olfa are very sensitive. Zora often like privacy so it is considered rude to use their musk to track them without their permission, amongst...other things…Goddess Link, I’m so frightfully sorry.” 

_ ‘Wow, I bet that’s useful for combat. You’d always know where your comrades are.’  _ Link said, pondering. _ ‘...wait, is that how you were able to find me so many times after the Guardian attacked?” _

Sidon looked at him sideways in shame. “Ah, well after--...I accidentally--...It was an accident, I never meant to use it in that way. Zora mostly use it to keep track of their family and spouses you see, but after seeing you take down the guardian I was in awe of you and...Goddess, I am so terribly sorry. The scent was..-- nevermind. In a few rare cases It has been used for more nefarious purposes like stalking, and I had not pondered it from a strategic viewpoint before...Mostly you gain a new scent  when you’re ... uh ... courting .”

Link grimaced at the notion that his only interest and first thoughts about any subject were always dedicated to battle and survival, and then had to hold back a giggle at Sidon’s flustered mumbling. 

“Would you...I know this seems obvious but...you don’t mind that I... _ had _ your scent?” Sidon asked, sheepish and glowing hotly. 

_ “Only if your future intentions towards me are pure.” _

The Prince groaned and put his hand over his face, holding down an embarrassed laugh and looking at Link from between gasps. Link was sure he was overstepping the mark, but could not hold himself back. 

_ “Had? I thought you’d have more than enough of my scent already…” _

All of Sidon’s luminous scales burned. 

“ _ Goddess  _ so _ help  _ me _ \--  _ No! Yes...ugh...It needs...refreshing...every so often.”

Link chuckled breathlessly, and nodded in affirmation. 

_ “Do you want to refresh it now…?”  _

The Prince froze. Before a wild grin broke across his face. Link returned it, leaning stiffly into him, and watching as Sidon  _ bowed, _ for Goddesses sakes’, before sinking down and putting his face mere inches from The Champion’s.

“Are you sure you do not mind?”

Link breathed easily as Sidon stared at him, the flush still in his face and his pupils tiny slits upon liquid gold. The pink band of infinitely delicate scales seemed to move in a miniscule wave, catching tiny points of light, and Link would never have noticed it unless he was looking. 

He nodded, not even needing to think about it. 

The Prince took his hand, pressing it against his lips, closed his eyes and leaned in, pressing his knuckles against his Olfa. Close enough to share whispers, he concentrated on memorizing Links musk, all over again.

When they kissed before, Link wondered if he had brushed the area with his nose. He could see Sidon's teeth, biting his lip. The scales waved again. Link’s curiosity got the better of him, and he raised his other hand to Sidon’s face, and with the very edge of his fingertip he traced the seam between the porcelain white scales and the pink area. 

Sidon’s eyes shot open. 

They froze. 

Link took his hand away, quicker than he meant to.

“ _ Sorry _ !”

The white scales of Sidon’s face seemed to have flushed a shade of luminescent pink, too, the likes of which Link had only ever seen in vibrant sunsets, or perhaps Sidon was just reflecting the radish red that Link was heated with. 

When the Prince eventually regained his voice, he could only murmur, “That is… uh...usually a place reserved for your...your…...uhm…”

Link’s mouth formed an O of realization. ‘ _ Lover.’  _

_ ‘Sorry’ _

“Don’t be, this is yours, by all accounts.” Sidon breathed, adding in a whisper. “You...still...have very soft fingers.” 

They were both sheepish for a long moment. 

_ ‘Just...don’t stalk me, okay?’  _ Link eventually added with a teasing smile.

Sidon swatted him playfully, the spell broken, and in return Link allowed him to inspect his face; mostly his ears, nose and especially his hair, which fascinated the Prince beyond measure, even when he'd been drunk. Link even took it out of its hairband and let Sidon play with it, only taking the liberty of explaining the closeness associated with someone else playing with your hair. Link gave him permission to play more, and the Zora did, seeming more at ease this time around. He scarcely held himself together as Sidon’s fingers tangled in his scalp, suddenly all too aware of Sidon’s hands against him and the red tips of his ears.

Link wanted to ask more about Zora anatomy, but most of his questions were too unseemly or too personal to follow up on, so he continued to let Sidon inspect him. It seemed so strange to be learning so much only _ after _ they'd slept together.

_ It was pretty unfair, really.  _

Link felt fingers caress the back of his neck lovingly, another hand in his hair and Sidon staring into his eyes like he was fortune itself. So close he could taste Sidon, the feel of the scaled fingers ghosting his sides. Link sneakily breathed in, and found his courage before he gave into the temptation and warm breath on his neck to stay here indefinitely. He tore himself away and felt instantly bereft and cold. 

“ _ I think... it’s as good a time as any. Sidon, let’s go get Ruta.” _

  
  
  


*****

  
  


Sidon saluted him, as he readied himself, showering him with compliments as Link stood dripping miserably in the pissing rain. He tried not to get distracted, nor let the creeping flush overtake him. 

“You never cease to amaze, Link. A Lynel and a Divine beast all in the same day! Are you sure you don’t need to sleep more? Zelda’s bed is right there, and I am sure she would not mind you borrowing it?”

Link grimaced and shook his head, glancing back at the little pavilion, empty but for a few old books and study materials. Zelda’s hideaway for recording her findings on Vah Ruta. He had thought it was Sidon’s at first, before he remembered that they sleep in pools. He absolutely could not tolerate the idea of going to bed at a time like this, not when he was close to pulling Sidon with him, and especially not this close to the grumpy Divine Beast.

The Prince vaulted into the water, and Link jumped in much less gracefully, clinging to his back and hugging his sides with his knees. He swung his bow and sword experimentally, making sure his seat was solid. Sidon waited patiently, though Link could feel his heartbeat thudding along his spine. Link’s was not much better. The rain persisted as Vah Ruta’s trumpet resounded.

“I will protect you as best I can. Squeeze if you want to go faster.” 

Link nodded, and squeezed. 

  
  
  


***** 

  
  


Link landed back in the swell, the rain beating on his face, and he panted, the final water terminal lit in a  chartreuse light. The great trunk of the elephant crashed down, the waves engulfing him, rolling over until he wasn’t sure which way was up or down. Hands clasped about his waist and under his arm as Sidon swam up, pulling him to the surface, both of them gasping and exhausted, not that you’d know it, from the way Sidon was shouting giddily. 

“That was astounding! Look! The water spouting from Ruta has slowed down!”

Link watched as the beast reared up, it’s body stretching up out the water until a door was revealed. 

Sidon waded, clearly struggling from the effort of their long battle of fighting the tide and mystical ice. 

“Looks like this is where the real work starts” he said, determinedly. 

They drew alongside the platform, and Link climbed off as gently as he could, skipping onto solid ground. 

“Show the enemy no fear.” Sidon said, to both of them, as he pulled himself up, clearly intending to join Link on the mission. The great beast rumbled.

Link’s panic knotted his windpipe. He immediately knelt, locking eyes with Sidon and holding both his hands still as they scrambled for purchase.  How good it would be to have Sidon cheer him on inside, even in a den of evil such as this. But Sidon had not seen a blight. He had not dealt with one. And Link knew how they wrapped around the soul of the operator. He longed to give Sidon the opportunity to see his sister again, but not like this. Not when Link would not be able to protect both of them. He heard the gross shifting of flesh and the groaning of the blight’s body and worried at his lip.  Sidon pulled up tiredly, arms trembling with exertion. His eyes were too full and watery when Sidon finally met his gaze. Link stooped, taking the last of the Zora’s breath away, taking his face in his hands and catching his lips before Sidon could utter another word.

The Prince’s breath hitched.

His hands drifted down sodden shoulders, and lifted at Sidon’s fingers, and gently, oh so gently, he pulled them away from the platform and up to his chest until their hands were clasped together. The Divine beast shuddered under him, and he felt it reverberate up as Sidon’s lips parted in awe, his eyes wide open, before kissing him back as the platform started to rise. 

“No, wait!” Sidon gasped, feeling Link pull away with it, scrabbling to get a hold of the retreating surface. Link shook his head and held his hands firmly, kissing both before letting them fall. Sidon descended back into the reservoir, immediately resurfacing and shouting. 

“Link! Let me help you!” 

Link shook his head again, already seeing that Sidon was too exhausted to even make another leap out the water to get back up to him

_ “Wish me luck.” _

Sidon growled desolately, before attempting to jump up. By now the platform was raised twice his height, and Sidon could scarcely lift his arms. 

He stared up hopelessly, as Link watched him get smaller. 

“You need to come back! Do you hear me?!” Sidon gulped and blinked the droplets away. “Come back! Please! Best of luck!” Link nodded, unsure if Sidon could see him signing. 

_ “I'm sorry! Wait for me!” _

“For as long as it takes!” The Prince shouted mournfully, three storeys below. 

Weakly he swam on his back, staring until Link could watch him no more, and turned on his heel into the stomach of the creature. 

“Finish the Job, Link…” He whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp :,D I had to split this chapter in two as I've noticed a bit of glaring error in my timeline that needs fixing, but I didn't want to leave you all with nothing. We would have been ending on chapter 17, but now it's 18 instead, whoops :/ oh well.
> 
> I did also try to write the Vah Ruta battle, but honestly I had nothing new or exciting to add to that one unlike the previous scenes I've lifted from the game. It made no sense to retell it when the stakes and characters were the same. However it was great fun to recontextualise some of Sidon's lines from before and after the battle, so I left those sections in. 
> 
> Apologies for the shortened chapter, truth be told I think it might actually flow better this way :,D Also major sorry for completely recontextualising where the Zora Helm and Grieves came from. I imagine that the old ones still exist, it's just that now Link has some Sidon branded ones instead. (excuses, I know :P)


	16. Unpack Your Heart

Sidon paced. The beast shuddered, the water had started flowing again and the trunk moved. The reservoir was flooded as it thrashed, and the Zora were already evacuated to the safe pools of Toto Lake lest the reservoir dam break and the Domain flooded. They carried the little ones upriver on their backs, yet Sidon did not venture with them. His father too, stayed upon his mighty throne, simply waiting. Sidon could not stay far away. Between each earthquake and shift in Vah Ruta’s form he sat, waiting, sure that Link would appear. Then all would fall silent, and Sidon would tear himself apart with worry.

He couldn’t sleep, nor eat, and fatigue set in like fog. 

The quiet stretched on, and the cloud above light with no threat of rain, thinned slowly. Night settled in, the Moon’s shadows cast over and fading away, and still Sidon did not move from his vigilance upon the pier. 

The dawn was quiet and full of trepidation. And Sidon, with a start, felt the warm kiss of the sun on his back.

How many months had it been since the domain was blessed with sunlight unfettered? How long since he had seen his father’s palace adorned with bright glory? It felt like millenia. 

The sun rose, and Sidon watched. The birds sang, he heard his far-off people celebrate under the rays, jubilant and careless for just a moment. Their laughter from high up on the mountain soothed the frayed edges of his soul. 

Then the rumble came.

Sidon leapt, forgetting all momentary gains. Ruta glowed blue and sank, it’s mighty trumpet rising in victory as it descended to the bottom of the reservoir. Sidon thoughtlessly dove, swimming after it, but unable to push through the overwhelming currents as it powered away. Sidon was dashed on the bank in it’s jetstream. He threw himself right back in after it again, formulating something akin to a plan. The beast wasn’t watertight. If Link was in there he would drown. 

Sidon surged onwards, able only to follow at a distance, despite his adrenaline and urging of stripped muscles.  The seconds thundered past him, and he counted away what little time his Hylian love could hold his breath for. 

By the time they finally surfaced, Sidon had no idea where he was, nor could he see for panic. But the sky was clear and guiltless, and the world seemed at peace with his fathomless sense of dread.  He climbed the beast's great leg, scrambling and sobbing until every ounce of him shook and he could climb no more, the great hall inside the beast's stomach held nothing for him, just empty cogs and swirling patterns.

“Link!” His voice echoed desperately. 

A peal of little bells, or the clinking of jewellery sounded, and Sidon turned and ran for it, the room he ended up in was ankle deep in water and breathless, a glowing blue plaque was his only company. 

Except the water reflected green, where there was nothing of that colour in the room. 

Sidon looked, his eyes weary and cold. 

Ghostlights - there -

Hanging in the reflection on the water his sister stood, looking up out at the sky above them. 

“Mipha?” He choked, surely imagining the whole thing, even as her image turned and smiled at him. She seemed to rise, her reflection lifting away from him until he felt the wind pick up, and her voice reverberate through his chest. 

“My sweet Sidon.” She whispered, smiling gratefully.

He ran to her - she was practically 3 dimensional now, and as he approached he saw, truly, how much he had grown, and the true magnitude of 100 years of heartache. 

“Sister--!” He choked.    
  


******

  
  


Waterfalls and sunshine poured through his mind and bathed his sores. Everything hurt. Zelda’s bed gave him no comfort. He could sleep for another 100 years if he let himself, his wounds were not severe but some ached bone deep, and yet he felt more alive then he had in weeks. 

Still, eventually he looked for Sidon, and there he was, over at the end of the pier, stood staring out at the reservoir basin, lost. 

When Link half fell, half-staggered, his side bruised and his head claggy, resting against Sidon’s back for fear of falling over and for need of contact, the Zora turned and cradled him, his breath coming in subdued little gasps. 

And Link leant, relieved and grateful. 

“I saw her, Link, I saw her--...” 

The Hylian could only squeeze in reassurance. 

They stayed, swaying in the glorious sunshine until Sidon straightened up, his hand finding it’s trademark place above his heart and shoulder and the smile that lit his face was tear-stained, revelatory and free. 

“She truly was there, this whole time, watching over us…”

Link held his waist until Sidon opened his eyes enough to read his hands.

_ “Do...do you remember Mipha making a sign like that at you when she was holding something?” _ Link copied him, slowly and methodically, his hand over his heart and a sad grin splitting his face.

Sidon paused and shook his head. Then he promptly thought better of it - there wasn’t a single memory where she wasn’t holding the Lightscale Trident, and the sign always cropped up when she’d just come back from somewhere…

“Yes actually, yes she was...why--”

Link slowly mirrored the pose, and then moved his second arm over the first to form an x, held over his heart. His fingers knitted in his tunic and his shoulders hunched with the effort of holding himself in. 

Signing took  _ two hands.  _

Mipha’s sign, the one Sidon copied endlessly and faithfully, had been the one armed version of the sign for “hug”.

Sidon bit it back, but tears flooded his eyes unbidden as he watched the Champion falling apart in front of him, dirty tracks streaming between the dirt and blood down his face. 

Sidon’s beautiful, lost, beloved sister, had been asking him for a hug. He’d been asking strangers for one-armed hugs for a hundred years without knowing and dear Gods he missed her so much! How could he, a Goddess damned Prince, be so utterly stupid? The times he’d asked the Champion to hold him and how unnecessarily true it had been every time! -- And how could he--She had loved them so much! To speak with Link’s language, and to have dedicated herself to Sidon’s happiness. It was all so daft and so lovely. 

Link’s hand touched his, resting atop it as he laughed, choked with all that foolishness. One arm was still clutched at his chest and his face was framed in matted hair. 

Sidon laughed, wailed, and hiccuped. How Mipha would have poked fun at him for all these years of such innocent copycatting - how she would have revelled in granting him his unknowing request. How he mourned her. And how, when he moved his arm across his own heart to clutch at it, a sad mirror of the cheery sign he’d displayed earlier, Link gave him his request, gently sitting on the floor, cradling his head, until the Prince was a sobbing, chortling mess in his lap. 

After all these years of missing, he’d thought he’d cried and celebrated his fill for his wonderful Sister, but he had more of her to mourn, and yet more, when the thought occurred that Link could not truly mourn that kindness with him, only the void where it used to be. He mourned his friend, just as lost to him as his sister was, mourned the time they had all lost on the Calamity, the laughter that was never heard, the secrets that were never told, and the time they had not yet shared. Mipha, of course, would have simply held them too - would have danced in the moment and felt and enjoyed and--

All the things he  _ felt _ he should refuse himself. And for what reason, truly? 

“Link…” Sidon whispered, when the emotions had burned themselves out. He found he had no words for what he wanted to say, and instead his hands clutched together.   
  
_ “Hold onto me.”  _ His hands said.

The Champion’s head rested on his chest, his arms encircling his neck and shoulders and a kiss placed quietly against his cheek, request fulfilled. 

The sun wreathed his dear one in gold, and Sidon stared in rapture. His halo was proof that he was the intervention of Gods, and the filth on his skin was so human that Sidon’s heart ached with warmth, overflowing. 

“I think we are forgiven for this mistake. I think that even if we are not, I do not care anymore. All those river messages and moments, I will treasure all those little mistakes,  _ always _ .” 

“ _ Yeah. _ ” He agreed, his hold loosening, and Sidon turned to look at him. His visage wasn’t cloudless, but there was a clarity and a lightness there that Sidon hadn’t seen since the party in Hateno. 

Sidon caressed the side of his face and Link collapsed into his touch.

“Whatever I can do for you on your journey, Link, whatever you want - commit it to the river - as we were before.”

Link opened his eyes from his position against Sidon’s palms, hands sneaking up his chest.  With a tired surge and hands against scale, Link barrelled against him, and they went sprawling backwards into the warm clutch of the reservoir.  Sidon landed gracelessly, with a squawk and a plume of water, and Link’s hair was drenched, rivulets of battle-grimed water running off him.  He laughed, seated high up on Sidon’s waist, having landed not-so-impeccably and incapable of letting go, and Sidon laughed too, understanding implicitly that _he'd_ just been committed to the river. The Knowledge was overwhelming, and if his gills stopped working in that moment, it was too late, for he was already swimming in happiness and had no need for breath. 

The breeze tickled over his scales, following Link’s gaze.  _ “I want you. So how about making a few more mistakes with me?”  _

Sidon breathed, and had never wanted for anything more, so much so that his gullet was clogged with potential responses. 

Neither of them belonged. Not to Goddesses, not to lineages, not to responsibilities, not to old flames or unrequited loves, not even to each other. 

Wasn’t that all freedom was? To make a choice, success or failure be damned? To make strings of bad choices, or good ones, or the best ones---to do the best with what one has.

Link leaned in and kissed him.

Yes, mistakes were truly, truly  _ wonderful  _ things. 

Sidon paddled them languidly back to the pier, readying his hands at Link’s waist to help him onto solid ground, but Link made no move, instead avoiding his gaze, too many thoughts clouding his eyes.  Sidon smiled and massaged his tired swordhand. 

“You must stay. You need to rest. We’ve got some shopping to do, anyway --You don’t have to leave right away.”

The gaze he got was four-parts forlorn, one-part relief. 

“ _ Shopping?” _

“Yes, that wish-list needs fulfilling, remember? Carrots, for Epona, I believe you said? We need some seeds - I was thinking fruit trees after your suggestion, but you might have something better in mind? And...what would we need exactly to make a house in Hateno, bought on a whim, feel like a home? Perhaps we could host one of those jolly dances there? Some furniture, perhaps?” 

Link practically melted, Sidon’s bright grin bringing instant dew to his eyes. Perhaps the Goddesses weren’t so cruel after all.

Link shook his head, hauling himself onto the pier to disguise his tired shaking. 

_ “First, we talk to the King.” _

  
  


*****

  
  


Dorephan rewarded Link with the trident almost straight away, every resident of the domain cheering at him. He honestly wanted to slink out the back and dive into the River to escape, but Sidon beamed at him with such virulent pride, and his chest felt so full and so heavy, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to make the jump and not sink at the end. 

“ _ I have something to tell you.”  _ He signed at Dorephan. When Sidon immediately translated, the King gave him only a short knowing look before focusing back on Link. The rest of the council were not so subtle. 

“Link says; Champion Mipha’s soul is free of Ganon’s influence, but even so, King Dorephan, that does not make up for all that I have cost you and your people. I can never apologise enough. I saw her in Divine Beast Vah Ruta - Sidon did too. She wants only to see you one last time - if... -- **_when_** Ganon falls,” Sidon corrected faithfully, “her purpose will be fulfilled. Before then, go to her and she will appear for you. Please, take your chance to say goodbye, and please accept my apologies.” The King’s eyes were teary, and most every Zora in the room seemed to sway. Sidon coughed wetly. “Thank you for... _\--”_ Sidon received a pointed stare as the hiccup in his translation became too obvious, and he had done so well to bridge over the signs he did not know thus far-- “He says: thank you for lending me Prince Sidon, without whom I would have failed my journey miserably.” He bowed so deeply that Sidon wanted nothing more than to go and force him to stand back up. In his view, Link’s eyes should always be visible, his face always kissed by light, and his shoulders free from the weight of trouble. 

The Zora took a moment to cheer, where even Dento and Muzu came up to shake Link and Sidon’s hand, offering their own stubborn apologies and congratulations. 

Dorephan through fits of mighty sobs, leaned down and likewise shook Link’s hand with one giant finger. 

“My boy, if there is anything - anything at all that we might be able to do for you, you must tell us at your earliest convenience. My beloved Mipha, oh how she must be so proud of you both!”

Sidon stepped forward in earnest. 

“Father, I have a request.” 

“Name it, my son.” Dorephan chortled through his tears.

“I would like permission to travel to Link’s home in Hateno with him, for we are going to throw a small gathering. His peers do not know he is a champion, but I see no reason why he should not be celebrated like one.” 

Muzu raised his head to counter, but Dorephan immediately waved them on their way. 

“And I see no reason why you should not be as safe with The Champion of Hyrule than you should be here. Go, celebrate, be young. I too must be on my way! I have an appointment to keep with my daughter.” He guffawed, rising lightly to his too-small feet, wobbling over to the palace balcony and diving into the swell, his councilmen flapping after him in panic, and half of the Zora cheering and following in the impromptu parade. 

Link, in an impossible moment between the hubbub of cheers and claps on the back, stole a look at his beloved, and found gold eyes staring back. 

The Zora piled him with gifts, until he couldn’t hold a thing and was forced to set it all down in a rolling heap of fish, fruit and jewellery.  Sidon helped scoop it into an amusing pile, before taking a bite out of a single wayward apple, holding Link’s gaze like a promise.

“So, I was thinking, perhaps an apple tree might be appropriate for planting in this weather?” 

Link took the fruit out of Sidon’s loose grasp and smiled around it as he ate.

  
  
  


*****

  
  
  


Sidon ducked through the doorway, arms full of shopping, into the bare room and looked about. The ceiling was lofty, and though it was cold it did not seem damp or drafty. The wood floor was solid and the roof had very few planks that needed replacing. He placed the sack of carrots down and grinned. 

He turned to Link who likewise looked around, mostly overwhelmed.

“A fine house! It suits you.” 

“ _ We’re not really going to host actual people here, are we?” _

Sidon stringently avoided the mention of ‘we’, lest he get too overexcited. “That is entirely up to you. What do you want, Link? It is your home.” He shifted uncomfortably under the question.

_ “Furniture.”  _ He decided, after a moment.  _ “Let’s get some furniture.”  _

In a matter of days, through no fault of Sidon’s, there was a small self-recruited army made up of Hateno townspeople, chattering away over the sound of saws through wood, stew bubbling and the hammering of nails through roof slats.    
  
“Link, dearest, what about this colour? It’ll go with that Zora, your old tunic and that cow you have yet to dye!” Sayge fussed merrily, the colour on his fingers the same lurid red that Sidon had accidentally created upon his first visit to Hateno.

Link grinned widely and nodded as Sidon hid his face behind his shears in bashfulness, as he trimmed the creeper that had grown too wild around his doorway. 

He felt overwhelmed. In a matter of two days he’d gotten blisters from cutting down enough wood to fuel an operation that so far had yielded a dining area, kitchen, storage bay, and the most comfortable looking bed he had ever seen. His garden was cleared of excess brush, they’d discovered and tidied up a pond right next to the house, repaired the roof, stables and even installed a sign to show it was  _ his _ place. 

Leop was stood directing, jovially and mostly inefficiently, whistling jaunty tunes and supplying ample conversation. Prima and her friends had snatched the fabric off Sayge and started sewing curtains and bedspreads, Manny proving himself to be competent, even under the fluster of Prima’s attention. 

The children had made a game of picking flowers and weaving them, making odd, knotwork whorl arrangements that Link kept finding in the new nooks and crannies in his home. 

He bought over the carrots for Epona, and as everyone took lunch, he fed her quietly, as he had wished to. 

“Say, Link,” Leop began, “Now you and Sidon can make a lick o’ sense, what’s that story you were telling us about that Giant Spider? The one where you met each other?” 

Epona helped herself to the rest of the bundle of carrots and Link went to join them all, spread out on the grass and accepting a bowl of stew. 

Sidon translated for him without much thought.

_ “Sidon and I met when I got attacked by a guardian.” _

“What.” 

“No really, that is how we met.” Sidon laughed, finding the bowl and spoon too small and fiddly but enjoying the stew nonetheless. 

“How are you both even still alive?”

“Sheer bone stupidity.” A high pitched voice cut in. Purah - she trotted across the entry bridge followed promptly by Symin. 

Link looked stupefied. She so rarely even came outside, let alone all the way into town. Luckily, the rest of their assembled workforce agreed with his shock.

“Linky, I bought you some gifts. Thank you for telling us this was happening Sidon, he would never have said anything otherwise. I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of inviting a few more people for this party of yours. Who knows if they’ll show or not.” She placed a hand on her hips and waved away Link’s pout to let him know that she didn’t really care if he minded, instead taking a stack of books from Symin’s arms and teetering under them to present them to Link. 

Much to Purah’s credit, not one of them was tech research - instead it was homely things - adventure novels, a few cookbooks, some sketchbooks and writing implements, and herb guides. 

“Looks like we gotta build a bookcase too.” Karson murmured, still looking at Purah, along with half the town in group surprise. 

“ _ Sorry to add to your troubles. Thank you, for everything Purah. _ ” She put her hands on her hips and wore a prim smile that said ‘you’re welcome.’

“Not a worry, we’ll get right on that.” Bolson waved, sipping the last bit of his stew and sauntering onto his new task. 

Mercifully, nobody immediately asked Purah any questions, and instead they all joined Bolson and Karson with what was becoming a nearly completed house. Purah and Symin set to work with Link’s help on making a nice lighting array, using a little bit of sheikah wizardry and some haphazard woodwork. 

More than once, his gaze drifted and his eyes would meet Sidon’s, staring from behind his pruning work or as Link tied a jointing knot around his carpentry. There they would hold, warmly, until Link would get reluctantly distracted by Purah and Symin dragging him into their bickering, or Sidon had the children use him as a climbing frame. Link was reminded of the luxurious feeling of a sweltering sunny day on a riverbank, making arrows, with none of the peace and quiet that had been associated with it previously.

When the sun began to set, Link stood in his house -- his  _ home -- _ and very nearly insisted on hugging every person who’d come to help them, instead he just about managed to restrain himself to a fond handshake and a grateful bestowal of pouches, full of rupees that he didn’t need. 

Prima blushed as he shook her hand, Manny glowered, Sayge and Senma asked him to swing by to see if they really  _ could  _ dye an entire cow “for science”, the farming contingent insisted on him holding that party and Thadd insisted on beer tasting, as he had missed it last time by being on guard duty. Leop hobbled over, the last to leave, and forewent the handshake, instead giving him a one armed shove that was close enough to a hug to count. 

“Welcome to the family, kiddo. Took you long enough. We’re all gonna need some lessons in them hand-signs, now you’re a permanent resident in Hateno. When is it convenient to schedule some?”

Link grinned brightly and Leop was soon placated with offerings of a huge Bass Sidon had caught himself, and a pocketful of purple rupees as a wedding gift for Juney. He didn’t complain, but promised he would be back with the others tomorrow to check in, and Link absolutely would have to schedule some lessons, otherwise they’d have to kidnap Purah to be their teacher. 

Sidon shut the door gratefully, and Link collapsed into one of his new dining chairs in merry exhaustion. 

How impossible it was that a purchased whim was now a home, full of evidence of present love and future friends. 

He let his head fall so he might look at Sidon, knowingly. 

_ "You’ve made short work of my wishlist.”  _

“Every man must have some joy to return to.” Tenderness warmed his expression. “I have some gifts too--no, stay there, I will bring them to you. They are... not original, nor grand, but I think you might like them nonetheless” 

Sidon placed two wooden boxes on the table in front of him, pushing the smaller one forward, and Link sat up, looking questioningly. 

He slid open the lid of the first box, and inside were little model boats. Link picked the first up, marvelling at the details - plaited straw rigging and and fruit-leather-carved hull, when the thought struck him.   
  
_ “These are made of Melon rind…”  _ He gawped at Sidon.  _ “The same Rind that I threw to you? You...saved it all? How many of my weird gifts did you save?”  _

Sidon looked comfortably sheepish and didn’t answer, preferring to watch Link’s hands skip reverentially over his silly handiwork. 

Link put them, pride of place, on top of his new bookshelf, and placed the Lightscale Trident on his weapon display next to it, stepping back to drink it all in, buzzing with an energy he didn’t know how to express. 

He trotted to open the last box, sitting down next to Sidon who was far too big for his new chairs, but tried his best to balance on one anyway. 

The final box opened, and light shone from inside, a familiar ghostly green, etched by his own hand - pictures of forest creatures and flowing rivers and starlit skies. 

His carved pumpkin, completely translucent now it had been properly treated and dried, was set with silver findings and gilt with such exquisite Zora craftsmanship that it almost made Link’s ameteur engraving look like high art. The interior hummed with vitality that Link knew, without needing to look inside, was the star fragment - _ their  _ shooting star - sat inside resplendent. The glow was a comfort, synonymous with Mipha’s spirit, with Revali, Urbosa, Daruk, everyone who glowed faintly on the other side of his forgotten history. 

He realised with a start that it didn’t scare him anymore. 

Sure, things made him cringe, like his injuries and close-misses, or having ever thought Sidon was a threat. Some things made him angry, like the Yiga, or his mind’s refusal to give up it’s forgotten knowledge. Some things even made him ache, like the fierce pride of the Gerudo, the homeliness of the Rito, the bravery of the Gorons and the generosity of the Zora. His Hateno friends, his Shiekah family, his love---Sidon’s terrible fondness glowed across his face and Link turned the little pumpkin lantern carefully in his fingertips, watching the star inside twirl. 

But it didn’t  _ scare _ him. 

He wasn’t alone. 

He wondered if the gods would let him have just one more wish. 

He put the pumpkin aside and fell into Sidon’s lap, just holding him in quiet thanks. Alone,  _ together _ . 

Sidon squeezed, his arms wrapped around Link’s waist and cradling his head against his chest. 

“The star isn’t truly yours until you come back to me.”  _ After Ganon,  _ was left unspoken. 

Link nodded with every intention of retrieving it, after putting a boot up Ganon’s arse and yelling ‘ha! I did it and lived!’ to the sky so all the gods might hear. It didn’t matter about any of the other possibilities now. He listened to Sidon’s heart hammering. This was what mattered. 

“Inopportune and as it may be, I have one last gift.” 

Link looked up at him, unsure of what else Sidon could possibly have planned, and as he turned Sidon’s lips caught his, clumsily and deeply, until they corrected and Link pressed into him with a pleased shiver. 

“Link, simply put...” he murmured, between bouts of kissing. “I love you -- -- If you still want me, I--” 

Having no words and not even needing to think twice about answering, all he could do was stand between Sidon’s knees, a hand under a face fin and another pulling their chests flush, luring Sidon out of his seat until Link was pinned against the table, surrounded by keen scale and fervent arms. It was clumsy, the chair toppling in the wake of poorly aimed kisses and breathy shudders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I fixed my timeline issue much faster than I thought, I figured I would pop up this chapter a bit quicker. I'm really sorry, I haven't gone through your lovely comments yet, this week has been a trial and I'm fighting to keep my head above water at the moment, so I'm sort've saving your comments for if I hit rock bottom as they never fail to cheer me up. All you good people giving me my sweet sweet seratonin @3@
> 
> This chapter was so much dang fun. I read into Mipha's body language waaaay too much with the handsign thing but once I'd seen it, I couldn't unsee it, so here it is in writing X,D The handsign with crossed arms meaning hug is actually baby sign language, but Sidon was so wittle that Mipha would have used it with him it made 100% sense to me at least that Mipha would be asking him non-verbally that way. I imagine thier relationship to be super cute and doting. Also I can't believe I'm saying this but I'm really not that romantic a person - I re-read this chapter and I have no idea where I keep getting all this dang fluff from, it's weird how all my fics end up this way when I'm not like that day to day :,D Maybe writing is my form of emotional exorcism or something @_@ 
> 
> Also if it weren't already obvious, next chapter is the porns. I'll make sure it's skippable for anyone whose just here for plot. :3 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. I'll see you in the next one! :D


	17. Them Dirty Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guns n' roses guitar riff: ~Welcome to the Porn show, we got fish n' elves!~
> 
> There be nuthin but smut ahead, read at ye own risk!<3

“Link, simply put...” he murmured, between bouts of kissing. “I love you -- -- If you still want me, I--” 

Having no words and not even needing to think twice about answering, all he could do was stand between Sidon’s knees, a hand under a face fin and another pulling their chests flush, luring Sidon out of his seat until Link was pinned against the table. It was clumsy, the chair toppling in the wake of poorly aimed kisses and fervent hands. It was already clear where they were both going, and how ready they were to get there.

_“Sidon, will you fuck me?”_

He felt Link mouthe it against his skin, leaning into it against the fine tethers of his better judgement which made it all the worse when he leaned away to sign, before even claiming the prize Sidon would never have refused anyway. He laughed into Link’s lips at the irony of it - perhaps if Sidon hadn’t opened his big dumb mouth at the lake before, this could have happened so much sooner--

“I confess--” Sidon’s hand snaked up his back under his shirt, leaning Link gently against his forearm, panting out words in between the parting of lips. “Link, you are sublime, **_yes_** \--but I can’t remember you clearly----mhhmm---I have so little idea what to even _do--_ When we were in the-- the Yiga hideout-- _Link_ \-- it’s all so fuzzy--you already know how this goes _.”_

Air taken harshly through gills as Link’s lips traced his Olfa and a leg slid between his in response. Link flipped them, slowly. Sidon's hands weak under his touch as the Hylian seared into him. Sidon breathed, half in pleasure and half in protest at his own foolishness. 

Link shook his head, smiling. _“I only know what to expect, and we...well there were lots of things we_ **_couldn’t_ ** _have tried in the desert. Will you trust me? If not we can stop or maybe try something--”_ Sidon leaned in and licked the soft shell of his ear in needy confirmation. _Now. Please_. 

“I trust you.” 

Link grinned and skipped for his bag, rummaging. He felt the friction of Sidon’s dark, predatory gaze bearing up his spine. Link could almost _feel_ the clamp of his mouth around his jugular, the pressure over the giving of supple muscle and Sidon’s guttural growl scoring into his flesh. Link found what he searched for, standing and returning the blistering glower raking across him. Sidon’s cravat was ruffled, his scales aglow with voracious sheen and something noticeable building between his legs as he tamed the instinct to rut into the air. 

Honestly it hadn’t occurred to Link how much of an aphrodisiac this would be - fucking on _his_ table. His first proper use of it -- his eyes nearly glazed over with future furniture possibilities-- imagine his bed -or the pond outside- or _the throne in Zora’s domain_ \- Link placed his prize on the table, scrambling fingers back on moaning scale. He took to one of Sidon’s ankle cuffs, huffing impatiently when he couldn’t work out how to undo them immediately. The bottle that now sat on the table next to Sidon was oil - lubricant - in a thick glass vessel so long and... _shapely_ that it was unmistakable as anything else. 

“Link…” He breathed, His fingers taught and white, as Link’s traced the seam between his crimson-white scales up his inner thigh, cuff thrown over his shoulder. “...tell me what you intend--” He snorted down air as Link’s hands grazed around the mound where his dicks were sheathed and threatening. 

_“I’m going to show you how I like it, but--”_ He pushed Sidon backwards until only his lower legs were hanging off the table - it didn’t even so much as creak, and Link silently thanked Bolson and Karson. _“--we’re going to play a game. You can’t touch me until I say so.”_ Sidon looked at him heatedly. Link almost forgot to finish. _“Because if you do I’ll forget to prepare properly.”_ His blush drowned his collarbones in pretty red. 

One gutteral wolfish grin split his mouth wide. “Challenge accepted, I will not touch you. But I _will_ have my hands on you again.” Clothing rumpled to the ground noisily followed by his belts and quiver, then Sidon licked his lips and closed his salacious grip on a new section of stricken table. Link peeled the tunic off himself, golden evening light cascading down his torso like his scars were made of gold leaf. 

“You are exquisite - Link--” Sidon heaved, a breath away from begging already - the _air_ tasted of the Hylian. He held his tongue.

Link straddled his thighs and snatched the bottle, pouring out oil onto one hand, uncaught droplets spilling down a scaled chest. Their eyes met, one in urgent control and one in hot, flushed fascination. Sidon shuddered under his stare. The heat crept up his body. Link leant forward (until Sidon could feel the ghost of his breath wrapping around his collarbones), and sunk a single finger into himself.

Holding back a gulp, Sidon whispered “Was this how it was before?” The strain grew across his hips and Link bore down, shifting around his own hand to find the best angle. If this had been their method in the Yiga hideout then--Gods _\--_

Link shifted on him and shook his head, grinning and placing his other hand between his thighs. 

_Oh._ Sidon thought blandly, the heat turning broiling. He imagined it, sliding between Link in the dead of night -- how had the Hylian gotten any pleasure? He remembered the flashes of hooded blue eyes and quivering, the perfect view of Link’s body leant against his chest -- Link’s hands around both of their-- 

_Oh._ **_Oh._ **Sidon groaned and felt his muscles clamp. He wished he could help prepare, but his nails were too sharp to help with something so delicate --

“I do not want to hurt you--” The Hylian shook his head and grinned, leaning down and kissing a line up Sidon’s chest, showing half his hand sunk into his arse. Sidon exhaled noisily and had to restrain the need to have Link flush and surging against him. Link looked down at Sidon’s cocks, straining to be free, before raking a hot gaze up his stomach and to his face. 

“And what if you were not allowed to touch me, too?” Sidon jested, seeing Link’s struggle mirror his own. Sidon propped himself up, so their chests were _almost_ touching, and felt downward, his hand skipping as Link watched, Sidon’s favourite blush flaring along the crest of his ears and his throat bobbing in concentration. It took him two rough shuddering strokes along his slit for his cocks to come unsheathed, both already purple at the head and leaking. Link’s breath hitched, and he started to fuck into himself harder, impatient and panting. Sidon groaned as the cool air nipped at them. Choking on Link’s name and the tremors that built in his hips as he stroked, watching Link’s eyes follow his fingers. The more callous he was with his own body, the more blown stares he received and the honeyglow grew, and the more of Link’s digits urged inside. Sidon found a vein of confidence that he wasn’t aware he possessed - “I wanted to have you - I’ve imagined it, outside, near the sword, trying to keep quiet so the stable won’t hear us --” Link groaned and grabbed a fistful of his cravat. _Kind of cheating,_ but Sidon nearly had him there. Sidon tore his sash and epaulettes off with one hand and immediately went back to masturbating, watching as Link’s eyelashes trembled. “In the water, perhaps, if only I knew the ways to please you - when I learn, I want you to trust me - I want you against me and completely undone and--” Link tried to lean in to kiss him which Sidon dodged, by only a scarce hint of willpower and the aching want to see all of Link’s reactions as he debased himself. “No - you _said_ no touching.” Sidon panted through his grin, ripping off one wrist cuff and then the other, leaving himself unattended for fear of blowing too soon. “I want you to teach me to do what you’re doing - so I can watch you on **_my_ ** fingers _.”_

Link’s shoulders were bunched about his neck, every muscle taut and shaking as he tried between moans and thrusts to glare. Sidon grinned and leaned, just enough to see all of Link’s digits sunk into himself. _Nearly enough,_ Sidon thought, before catching sight of the discarded, long oil bottle, and slowly, knowingly presenting it to Link. 

The Hylian’s cock twitched, it’s attention immediately piqued and Link’s flush escaping further down his thumping chest at Sidon’s filthy gaze. 

Link removed his hand from his ass and Sidon’s cravat, and shakingly tried to reopen the thick glass tube, his hands too slick and _just_ too shaky. Sidon grabbed it for him, administering the oil onto the vessel. 

“May I? I want to watch you.” 

Link shivered and slowly guided Sidon’s hand around, his breath trembling out of him as it was positioned. Pushing onto it ass backwards, Sidon feeling the resistance, Link feeling it’s alien stroke against the sear of his insides. Sidon watched in rapture as it was swallowed, Link’s eyes impossibly clear. He settled onto it with a final single judder, all of it taken in one smooth motion, Impaling himself until the tips of Sidon’s fingers were touching his entrance. His hands clutched at Sidon’s thighs -

 _"_ _This is what it will look like when it's your cock in me_. _Do you like it?"_

This was a torturous game, to be unable to touch but reaping revenge by guide Link’s expressions between frustrated and bliss, dragging the vessel out and pushing it back in _just so._ Link’s lips seized, his chest casting out for contact, both hands in cravat until he forgot his own rules and fell against Sidon and silently mouthed ‘ _fuck!’_ against his scale _._ Sidon could see it all. Trembling thighs, to his quivering cock standing proudly under Sidon’s attention, mussed hair - then his gorgeous hands, one digging into Sidon’s scale, the other offering his ass open as the oiled bottle pressed deeper. He felt each tantalisingly slow thrust push down on his legs as Link moaned soundlessly. 

_“Touch me - please--”_ Link’s hands scrambled.

Sidon smirked disobediently as it plunged into his Hylian, testing his luck. Link growled, too imaptient to wait for Sidon to be obedient; ripping the bottle out impatiently, shoving it into a chair. Sidon's smile was still in place and his No Touch rule still proudly unbroken, at least on his part. 

“I did as you asked.” 

Link was panting in frustration, the scarlet painting his face was so vivid that their skin tone nearly matched. Sidon tried to pretend that he was not also aching with it, but the black eclipsing the gold in his eyes and his scales lit up like mini suns must have been a dead giveaway. Link forebodingly returned the shit-eating grin and unmounted him. Layers of heat peeled off. Sidon's eyes hitched wide and he tried to reach for the Hylian, to say sorry, anything meaningful so the air didn't feel so cold where Link had been, sunny, scalding and glorious. 

“Wait--!”

Then Link’s lips found his topmost cock - Sidon had to break the rule immediately, grabbing Link’s chin and hair and bringing him back up to meet his lips. 

“No!- Gods, please, don’t spring that on me --not yet. Zora can’t **_do_** that --our teeth -- _that’s unfair--_ _”_ He groaned, clumsily fumbling to lift a smirking Link back upward, the cord tethering Link’s hair falling free. Sidon legs were spread wide, his hips bucking involuntarily with each pant, cocks pulsing, the ridges of each one were sleek, and Link pressed up on him, looking down between them both. 

_“Gentle?”_ Link signed, flustered and now overwhelmed with heat and thought. Sidon leant upward and held him against his chest, nuzzling the shell of his ear. The size difference between them was palpable - most all of Link’s body could fit against Sidon’s torso.

“If it’s too soon, we don’t have to rush--” The strain in Sidon’s voice was telltale of just how hard it would be to step off this ride.

Link shook his head immediately, almost involuntarily. He doubted he could calm down even if he tried, and Goddess he didn’t _want_ to. 

_“I am sure, are you?”_ Sidon’s eyes rolled in utter relief _._

 _Link,_ Outlined in sunlight, cock standing to attention and stomach muscles quivering, hair loose and bright eyes swallowing what little was left of his sanity. 

“Gods, **_yes_** , I have never been surer of anything.” The smile that grew across his face was _delicious_ \- a breathless recognition of mutual and eager desire - it made Sidon's lungs hitch and his fists scrunch shut. 

“Gently.” Sidon demanded, “Are you happy like this?” 

Link thought for a moment, before laying down on the table next to him and pulling Sidon on top, and ushering him with a nervous _“Now I am”_. 

Bashfully, he retrieved the bottle of lubricant from the chair, sitting up to kiss a line between Sidon’s gills, for he could reach no higher, and just managing to pop the cork and pour between trembling hands.

Sidon growled, already impatient, his feet back on the floor and cocks lined up at the perfect height, Link’s hands slipping oil along them, lip seized between his teeth and barely holding it together. Sidon’s hands curled under either thigh. His pulse hammered visibly as he twitched. Link was taut, holding his breath anticipatorily.

Sidon breathed. They were too tense, both coiled with fervour. Like this it would hurt. He pushed Link back onto the table and forced more air out of his lungs, trying to think straight, staring at the gorgeous planes of undulating muscle, arms thrown above his head and eyes darkened beneath his humid shadow.  
  
“You are incomparably lovely, you have completely bewitched me, Link. Breathe, and relax. Here--” He pressed his thumbs into the bunches of muscle that corded Link’s shoulders. With the pressure, Link sighed, stoking down Sidon’s forearms with a whimpering breath, and let himself unwind under Sidon’s touch. They kissed, something languid, quiet and chaste in an otherwise thunderous storm of urgency. Sidon led one of his beloved’s loosened hands to his cravat. 

“Pull on this if you’re ready for more, push away if you want me to stop. I promise I will stop.” Sidon swallowed down then lifted both of Link’s knees to touch his hips. Link laughed breathlessly and tugged on the cravat for the sake of experimentation, Sidon meeting his lips with a horny smirk. It was hard not to bite into that golden pulse, but his Champion’s legs were shaking, and the size difference was significant even amongst most Zora. _He would not hurt him,_ not for all the hope in Hyrule.

Link’s hands aligned his bottommost cock, head lolling back and recieving nuzzled kisses up his neck and chin. He copied Sidon’s move, leading one of Sidon’s hands to his thigh and the other to his waist. Sidon’s fingers could nearly close around the entirety of his leg, his waist was overwhelmed with the other, and Link’s blood roared in his ears. _Fuck, that’s hot._

His gaze met Sidon’s still riveted and raking lines over the hollow of his neck and the part of his lips. 

“ _Squeeze if you want to go faster.”_ Link signed, before pulling on his regalia and pressing down, feeling the head of Sidon’s cock spear into him haltingly, and Sidon’s smile gave way to hot, captivated wonder as Link’s body accepted him, the friction snagging on the air in his lungs. 

His eyebrows were knit in rapture and the Zora, only in as far as his second ridge, let Link impatiently moan and tug his cravat again. Sidon growled, hands hooking under his shoulders and the third ridge disappeared with an audible pop and a breathless gasp. The Hylian hooked his heel higher on Sidon’s back and mouthed. “ _Fuck. Fuck!!"_ Sidon, gently losing his mind to the tune of his heartbeat. It would be so easy to swim in the sensations of pleasure, eat down Link’s body like fresh honey and lick him clean again at the end of it. Link writhed against him, jerking as each ridge knotted inside torturously slow. 

Sidon quickly found that his cravat was under constant tension, Link tugging at it incessantly and crying soundlessly. Gripped between thighs and grappled onward, Sidon had to hold him in place and bite his ear to keep from immediately coming on the first stroke. He leant in and kissed Link instead, trying hard not to buck or move no matter how brattily Link ground against him, or their hips shook in protest. 

_“Sidon, please"_ Link mouthed into their kiss, half begging, half drowning, pulling down so hard Sidon’s teeth nicked the soft wedge of Link’s bottom lip, but both were beyond caring, grasping the edge of the table like the final tether to a bolting horse. The Zora tried to say “relax” or “breathe”, but when he could do neither of those things himself - a coil of white lightning winding in his abdomen - the words didn’t seem worthy. Instead he kissed a desperate line down Link’s throat, trying to slow them down enough to make sure each tug on his regalia was conscious, and each drag of his cock against Link’s insides didn’t leave him savage and roaring. 

Instead, he pressed in, stilling only when no more of him could fit, gentle, panting and wanton. Link’s knees were clamped around his chest, holding his gills closed. Sidon took in the sparkle of sweat, the breaths ripped from between blush lips, grain-gold hair and blue eyes dark with the rush of blood. 

“You are so beautiful, Link.” 

Link kissed him, leaning up enough that they both shuddered with the change of angle. Something so soft and chaste that it seemed antithetical to being sheathed nearly to the hilt and naked on the kitchen table. They traded kisses back and forth, the Hylian’s arms around his neck and three, small, insistent tugs at his cravat. 

_“Now, **p**_ ** _lease_** _fuck me.”_ The sensation of mouthing lips danced all the way down past Sidon’s dick to his toes. He pressed a kiss to Link’s sternum and thrust forward. 

For something so long anticipated, between the crushing of hips and scramble of hands for purchase and pressure, it was quick and messy and _glorious._ Moans on embattled tongues and shallow rutting, building to something filthy -- ferocious. The slap of flesh, the judder of the table against the wooden floor. Sidon didn’t know when between ruining assults of dick, but Link nuzzled his head between panting to have access to his neck and they _both_ bit, the pale expanse of either stretch too inviting when blossoming with sweat and thunderous pulse. 

Sidon was already past close - he grabbed his unattended second cock, his hand closed about Link’s at the same time and Link’s lips released from his neck, mouth thrown open in such a way that any moan leaving it would have been an unashamed roar. Pumping them both with stuttering strokes. He felt Link buckle and scream soundlessly, a thousand little breathy _‘fuck!’s_ and prayers mouthed against his flesh. His fingers twitched with every abandoned, urging sign, until one found his regalia again and the other pulled his body upright, until neither of them were touching the table and Link’s weight was riding on him like he was trying to break in a stallion. He watched Sidon’s hands work them and his stomach strained with effort, between his eyes rolling back, toes curling, gasping down each other's air, his insides writhed tighter with cock and climax. 

“Link, _Link I_ \--”

He tried to warn, but Sidon’s vision shot with hurricanes and galaxies as Link’s body clenched around him, careening over the edge of release. His legs buckling out from under them. Curled and roaring into Link’s hair, teeth sinking into their rightful place over the moan in Link’s throat without a second thought. His beloved quavered with it, holding him like a promise, and like that Link had painted their chests, his head thrown back and every muscle corded against Sidon like he’s trying to rip him apart. 

Sidon held him as they twitch through the aftershocks of orgasm, chuckling and gasping through the layers of overwhelming sensation. Link was boneless and spent in his arms, breath ludicrously hot, and Sidon’s knees shook in bliss. Link panted, still mounted to the hilt on Sidon’s spent cock, unable to move. His hair stuck to his face, his hips juddering with over-stimulation, and his eyes alive with freshly-fucked blush. It was the most gorgeous thing Sidon had ever seen.

“Stunning.” Was all Sidon could manage, his eyes grinning black discs and his chest shuddering. 

_“Not-- not bad yourself.”_

He fumbled with the door of Link’s little washroom, his legs not quite his own, not yet prepared to uncouple - lowering them both into the sunken stone bath pooled in a corner, Link seated astride him for comfort. That table had seen enough firsts today. The cool of the water practically made them steam. Link moans, finally moving out from his hiding place in the crook of Sidon’s neck to look at him with a look of languid satisfaction. 

“ _That was...mmmmm--”_

Being unable to think of anything other than the truth, Sidon merely whispered; “You are fantastic, Link. Glorious, stupendous --- I can hardly believe how lucky I am. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

 _“Gods, no, not in--any way that I didn’t enjoy. Why in Hyrule -- didn’t -- we do this -- sooner?”_ His hands halted on certain movements, and Sidon realised his cock was still twitching and Link can still feel every tiny shudder up his back. 

Link dazedly explored past the pits in scale where his teeth and nails had just been clawed in pleasure, kissing each tender spot better in bursts. Sidon copied him, lapping at his own teeth marks, fingers wound in hair, and before long the water wasn’t very cold anymore and Link’s gaze was on his face and they’ve _still_ not pulled out--

“Perhaps we might make up for lost time, if you truly like it that much.” Sidon growls into his jugular, nipping and sitting back to gain a better view. 

_“The roughness and the biting--”_ Links eyes slide shut just thinking about it. _“More, please-- next time...I wasn’t expecting to like it so much."_

Sidon was entranced, his smile ravenous. "I think it might be easier to just blow cool air on me if you want to stop, next time. You pushed me around so much I am in half a mind to hold you down and--"

A slim teasing finger traced his olfa, and a hand grappled his regalia, clearly liking that idea _very much_. He garnered little shuddering breaths from Sidon until the Champion's hand was back on his own stomach feeling the twitches of Sidon pulse, finding the edge of pressure with his fingers and -- 

“Fuck-- Goddess! **_”_ ** Sidon can _feel_ all of himself _drag_ inside Link as he rolls his hips. 

Sidon was near-instantly hard all over again, and Link’s wide and gasping as everything stretches to accomodate him again, his expression slackening and his back arching and-- 

Half the water was soon out of the bath and the rest was in need of replacing without either of them caring. Rutting on the bathroom floor in writhing, heavy carnage. One fast round of too-quick and too needy movements, a scramble of teeth and roar of the seism building under thrusts, and then, when Sidon can’t contain himself and Link is canting up into him, still frustrated and forcing back onto cock to chase release, Sidon holds him down, filling him, biting into his waist leaving Link coiled, still hard and desperate. 

Sidon doesn’t even stop between one load and the next. Link still needed to finish, after all. One hand held his wrists behind his neck and the other pressed against his pelvis. Link was stapled over the lip of the bath and forced to slow downeven against his mangled pleas and bucking hips.

Sidon grinned, the pace now his; thrusts long and drawn out. Every slap searing a slow, deep fuck into Link's bone marrow. Each wrecked sob ripped out of him at the summit of every thrust, like Sidon was trying to fuck his vocal chords back into function. He was suspended on the precipice of orgasm for what felt like _hours -_ begging Sidon to let him finish, the friction and pressure between the hand on his stomach and the drag of dick against his insides, silently screaming and scratching at every square inch of scale he can't really reach - 

_“Fuck, please, Sidon, please!!!”_ he mouthed _._

And then Sidon smiled, something fond and pure and utterly besotted, before it was eclipsed by predacious thirst, and Sidon’s hips were hammering into him, his hand looped around Link’s cock, pumping roughly. And Link watched him lean, lips framing teeth, Link knowingly offered his neck, felt Sidon twitch inside him, roaring making his ribs rattle, everything too hot - too heavy - too close and --

Sidon _bites,_ and Link comes hard enough to wake the gods, and sweet oblivion claims him. 

  
  
  
  


When Link recovered from his freshly-fucked blackout, he was clean and the house was warm and velvet dark as Sidon carried him up the stairs. Fumbling along the walls was much less pleasurable than along Link’s skin, but the Hylian mouthed languid kisses against his cheek thankfully as they collapsed into bed with no regard for coverings, and only a single candle. Zora palms massaging sore muscles, hands in his locks and whispering sweet promises and lips caressing the plesant aches softly.

“You are gorgeous in every way.” 

_“You must really like me if you’re sticking around after rearranging my insides like that, you criminal.”_ Sidon’s scale lit in embarassed, mirthful orange, and Link watched the glow reflect in his sheepish smile. Link’s sleepy gaze swept from his chest up to his crown in satiated calm. _“Stick around some more, I could get used to this view.”_

“You are far filthier than I anticipated. _Wonderous_.” Sidon smirked, nuzzling fondly against Link’s torso. 

_“Debasing a Prince. Whatever would your father think?”_

“If anything, he should be worried about me bringing you home and making you my Royal consort.” Link smirked languidly.

 _“Only if we’re allowed alone time on that throne, your_ **_majesty._ ** _”_ Sidon’s chuckle ticked the fine hairs across his chest. 

“You drive me to distraction, you exquisite creature. I wish we had done this sooner. You must teach me more. I adore this--I adore _you_.”

 _“Dear Gods, you definitely don’t need teaching, if you get any better I’ll die. Just call me Royal Consort, as long as I can have that again. It’s probably been 100 years...if at all - that was a fucking good way to start the new record.”_ They grinned, the bubble of warmth that kept them insulated against the cool of the night seemed to wash with sticky affection. 

“An honour.” Sidon softly sighed, completely sincere. “How lucky I am to have someone that makes saying goodnight so hard.”

Link stroked his fingers down their sides quietly. _“Sidon...In all seriousness...I love you too.”_ He delivered a kiss to Sidon’s olfa and relaxed into his arms. _“Thank you. Goodnight.--Damn, you’re right. That is hard.”_

Sidon chuckled, kissing his eyelid closed. “Goodnight, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was too long because I'm terrible at editing my own work but I'mma do as my boiz do and say: fuck it. ;D
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the ride (huehuehue). I've really enjoyed writing totally mute Link apart from this chaper because dangit, the boi can't vocalise his pleasure, but I must admit I think we got around that small hurdle well enough. Mouthing things is fun, right? Right? :D 
> 
> As always, thank you guys so much for reading and for sticking with me this far. One more chapter to go, but honestly, you could probably stop reading here if you were only in it for fluff and porn (me too man, me too).If not, I hope to see you next chapter. 
> 
> Annoyingly I reread a lot of the previous chapters to make sure the final one works properly before I post it in a few days, and I've given myself about 6 new fic ideas. I'm not even joking, there's a freaking coffeeshop AU and everything. I am that fanfiction author trope we all know and cringe at X,D 
> 
> Thank you for all your glorious comments, Kudos and bookmarks. Please let me know if you enjoyed this because writing bonk chapters makes me NERVOUS and I'm a needy human at heart. Have a freaking amazing week, and hopefully I'll see you all next chapter :) 
> 
> The title of this one is inspired by the song of the same name by Mike Waters. Give it a listen. It's wholesome, and I wrote a lot of this fic to it's lovely tune :D Have a most excellent week, big love ;3


	18. Long-Time Traveller

Blearily, he awoke to the shifting of fabric and a small snicker of arrows against fletching. The house was pitch black but for one candle lit somewhere off to far flung reaches of the bedroom. His neck was cramped from sleeping as the Hylians do, currently unaccustomed to pillows or without his muscles supported by water. The fuzzy glow of the previous evening laid down his body even still, but it drained out in dread as he opened his eyes to a view of Link’s shoulder, adorned with the Sword that Seals the Darkness, tugging on a boot in the candlelight. 

“Link?” he murmured, propping himself up. The champion turned his shoulder, the visible half of his face swarmed by cold darkness. “You’re leaving?”

He turned fully then, outfitted in a tunic that tickled Sidon’s memory towards Mipha’s sash. Champion’s garb. 

_“I was going to wake you--”_

Sidon sat bolt upright, violently awake and aware. “You can’t be leaving _now?”_ Link almost looked guilty as Sidon searched his shadowed face. 

_“If I stay any longer I will never go.”_ He signed, shoulders hunched. _“It’s getting harder and harder to leave you. I could so easily stay here. I would be happy making love with you until I’m senseless.”_

Sidon clasped both his shoulders and went to say **_Good! Be happy! Don’t go, stay here and stay with me, there are so many things we haven’t done yet! - time we haven’t shared - memories we haven’t made - the party we have not had! Stay!_ **But the words died in his mouth. It wasn’t authentic, to ask Link to go against what called him, what ailed him and what captivated him. Sidon could no more capture Link’s freedom than he could stop his own heart beating. Who could ask a man to stay when he was not ready to? Not made to be tamed or ensnared so?

In the end, all that creaked out was; “Are you sure this is what you want?” 

Link looked down at his hands.

 _“No, but it is what I_ **_need_ ** _.”_

They considered that in the quiet of the night, and Sidon bent down as if to pray and kissed his hands.

 _“Please don’t ask to come with---”_ Sidon stroked his cheek and Link’s eyes creased with sorrow. He knew beyond doubt that Sidon wouldn’t have asked. Link wouldn’t have been able to bear Sidon in a dangerous place such as Hyrule castle. The only thing that Sidon prized more highly than Link’s safety was Link’s autonomy, and taking him into the fray endangered both. 

“May I take you halfway at least?” 

The candle flickered in the moments it took Link to slowly nod, letting his head rest against Sidon’s crown. 

They packed up quietly, Sidon silently promising to take care of the little house and the terrifying horse using stuttered sign. It felt wrong to say anything aloud right now, or break what little warmth they shared in the frigid dark. 

Link nodded barely, shouldering his shield and walking through the door as Sidon held it for him. He did not turn back to the house, nor say goodbye to Epona, stoically forging onward with his shoulders bunched. 

_“Down the River?”_ He asked, as they passed the silent market, not looking at Sidon at all. 

When the bank into the water was agreeable, past the lanes of dark houses full of the sleeping and restful, not a light on anywhere across misty Hateno, Sidon waded in, the river bending around his legs with barely a trickle. His every string of nerve was screaming for him to stop. To hold Link’s wrists, to kiss him as senseless as he wanted to be, to tell him that he loved him and didn’t know what he’d do without him. All that came out was a shaky fog-laden breath.

Link watched him, his outline flickering in the water. 

As they had done in the reservoir, Link let Sidon pull him against his chest and they floated, with a few purposeful kicks downstream. It was too cold for this, Link’s breath clouding and his skin pinpricked, but his hands were tangled in cravat and around his neck, and Sidon deteriorated with the moisture collecting on his chest. He felt numb against the shriek of his consciousness, like this was all a dream, experienced by someone else in another time. Fingertips pressed against cold mist-soaked flesh.

Link merely held. 

Though the journey felt infinite, the first light of the day washed the sky in indigo when they arrived at their bank, and it was as though it had been but a moment. 

They untangled and climbed up with leaden feet, Link’s boots dripping forlornly. Unsurprised that _this_ was the endpoint. 

Link stopped before the sword and contemplated. Hyrule streamed by, polite and silent. It was poetic somehow. Sidon began to claim him here, weaving himself into the threadbare tapestry of Link’s soul, and now here was where it unravelled, the end of the red string still clinging on to the last fibers. He had so many things to say and none of the right gravitas to convey the jumbled depths of his feeling. 

_“Why did you place it here?”_

Sidon met his eyes so slowly that Link barely held on to his resolve, lacing his fingers through Link’s and standing, both of them facing it like paying respects at a gravestone. 

“This is where I found you again. Seeing you alive and asking after the boy when you were the first Hylian who had given me hope for the future-- something about it felt like fate. I just wanted to remember.”

Link closed his eyes against the fog. 

“We haven’t planted that tree yet.” Sidon murmured. “I bought the seeds, just in case.”

Link smiled and nodded, trying to swallow a hopeless love-lorn laugh. 

_“Here, then. That way when it grows, we won’t ever forget about what brought us here.”_

They pulled the sword from the earth and dropped the seeds in together, covering it back over and sinking the sword half a foot behind it’s previous spot, quietly delaying the inevitable. The two candles at the front of the nearby stable seemed leagues away. 

Link nodded, and took a step onwards. Without thinking much, Sidon stepped too, around him and for a moment, blocking his path. They both knew he wasn’t going to do anything, but his heart still yearned.

He opened his mouth and closed it again, words caught in the iron squeeze of his ribcage.

 _“Do you remember back when we first met, you didn’t want me to see you?”_ Link looked up at him with a complicated smile. _“I didn’t understand why, but I respected it. It was nice, in a way, having to communicate on the same level. When you spoke to me for the first time I was so frustrated. Having not heard you and then knowing we weren’t the same-- but now I understand. It’s hard to be seen - hard to be understood just as you are. Now I don’t want you to see me leave, because I know how it hurts.”_

Sidon sagged at the irony of it, whipcords wrapping around his lungs, but he knelt eventually, anyway, his back to the dark hulk of Hyrule Castle and its scourge. 

_“I won’t watch.”_ His hands said in reply, his eyes sliding closed in resignation. His right gripped his left, his thumbs overlapping, noiselessly asking the impossible. _“Hold on to me.”_

He felt Link lean in, his arms sliding about the cool curves of Sidon’s neck and his choked breath ghosting the side of his cheek, his lips kissing Sidon’s and damp exchanging cheeks. 

“Link, be _safe,_ come back here -- come back to me _._ ”

_“I promise. I’ll make it back here.”_

A hand pressed across Sidon’s low-thrumming heart and with that final lungful of “I love you”, and the same sign etched onto Sidon’s skin, Link was gone. 

  
  
  


Sidon knelt for what felt like years, until the sun peeked over the horizon. 

He stood, and did not look back at Hyrule castle, nor search to find Link’s form hidden against its mass somewhere. The world woke up slowly, as something inside Sidon curled and hibernated, until summer could come back to his soul. 

He walked for Hateno.

  
  


*****

  
  


The people arrived at the little house for a celebration that would not happen - day by day the inn filled and the guests came to pay their respects. Nearly all had received Purah’s invitation - a _small_ gathering she had said! - and had taken up the great journey to join Link. 

By the third day of new arrivals, Sidon’s jaw ached from exhaustion. They all traded him stories of how his beloved had helped them, tottering through the minutiae of their problems, both big and small. It bought him all the smiles and sorrows his hapless soul could take. Grand tales of Divine Beasts, Guardians, rescuing laundry and herding cattle. They asked after the absentee Champion constantly, and Sidon, ever hoping for it to be true, had simply replied:

“Link will be here soon.” 

Upon enough carousing and peer pressure, he stood in front of all of Hateno and Link’s gathered guests. They were numerous - A gerudo contingent including Riju and Buliara, two rito families in their entirety (though unfortunately the chief was too old to join then now), half of Goron city, a platoon of Koroks with a frighteningly large one with a leaf for a beard, three stables’ worth of farriers, a sizable chunk of the population of Kakariko and a strange man called Robbie with his wife. The Zora too, in odd handfuls, stood among the people of Hateno and watched him. He towered above most of them, which was lucky, but his voice was already cracking. 

“So?” One slightly perturbed gray-feathered Rito asked. “Why is he not here?” 

Sidon breathed deep, preparing the story in his mind. It had not yet been told to most everyone in attendance. He began, in its entirety, the known tale of Link, Champion of Hyrule.

  
  


When his mouth closed around the final syllable, most of the town stood stunned. Little Impa, strong-set and with a mind of steel, had nodded along to it all, not needing to add a word to embellish it. 

“And so, friends, Link is not here, because he is in Hyrule Castle.”

The gasp of worry that flowed through them was audible. Some were in disbelief. Most had not known of Link’s illustrious history, only knowing him as some Hylian with balls of steel who helped them with somesuch small worry. 

“If we’ve been here for two days, how long has he been gone?” 

Sidon looked at the Goron who had introduced himself as Yunobo, and tried desperately to meet his gaze.

“A week.” Sidon murmured, another ripple flowing through his audience. 

Many muttered amongst themselves, and Sidon could hear every word of doubt they spoke hang over Link’s name. Very few had recovered enough to do more than question dumbly.

“He’s...r _eally_ the Hero of Hyrule? He’s really gone to fight that Calamity?” Old man Leop stuttered in disbelief. 

“He will succeed.” Sidon said, resolutely against the wall of uncertainty. “There is no one and nothing in Hyrule who could overcome that man.”

“Is this real? It’s got to be a joke…” 

“Nope-pah! He won the Sword that Seals the Darkness from the Great Deku tree’s care. The Great Deku Tree couldn’t mistake him for anyone else. He’s the Champion alright,” Hestu said, his leaves wobbling strangely. Apparently most of the other people here couldn’t see the Koroks, but they were audible, and the crowd seemed to jump and recede anytime one of them spoke. Sidon saw them as clear as day, though he had no energy to be curious about the phenomenon. The Zora present nodded along and added their affirmations, especially Kodah and Bazz, adding their own experiences alongside Sidon’s. Link was truly the destined Hero.

“But the calamity is still there--we saw it this morning when we went up the hill - you don’t think--?”

Sidon felt himself tire under their scrutiny, and he turned to look down the path toward Hyrule plain, imagining with every scale that Link’s shock of dirty blonde hair would come into view. 

This must have been what it was like for his father, waiting a century for Mipha to come back, when everyone else was sure of her loss. His was only to hope, there was nothing else he could do. 

“If you will all excuse me.” Sidon said, bowing and retreating tiredly across the bridge, in desperate need for some quiet solace. He hadn’t slept, nor ate, not in substantial enough amounts. The house looked so charming in the haze of the afternoon. He imagined Link opening its door and tending to Epona with a brush and basking in the sun and the quaintness of it. Now only the horse was there, but the man was not. Sidon ached. 

Link, for whatever reason, had been correct in his assumption that Epona only responded to his fear. She liked to follow a calm Sidon about the place as he cleaned made busywork, even barging the front door open for his company. He had picked apples with her assistance and saddlebags before he had been ambushed by the townsfolk. He was glad for her, as she also warned him of visitors with nervous chuffing, as she did now. Not that he begrudged their company, it was simply no replacement for the bond he longed for. 

Riju and her bodyguard followed him, stopping midway along the bridge when they heard Epona, just out of earshot of villagers and visitors. 

“You left out the part about you hurting him, Prince Sidon” She said, crossing her small arms. 

Sidon looked at her, exhausted and unable to spare any more worry. “You are right to be worried, and I am grateful that you protect him so. Though, the wounds you saw were both Yiga and uh,...well, Link and I are lovers, Chieftainess Riju.” Too tired to feel ashamed or embarrassed, he truly hoped he didn’t have to explain anymore than that. It didn’t seem to matter that it was only technically true retrospectively, either, not when images of Link smiling under the clench of his teeth and the weight of his body slid unbidden into his mind. Her eyelashes flicked a few times, but otherwise she stayed so perfectly still Sidon could have painted her easily. “Thank you for coming to our aid when we were both asunder.” 

Riju nodded slowly, looking him up and down in a newfound sort of appreciation.

“Ahem. I _am_ aware of the size difference, and so is Link.” Sidon spoke softly, gently reminding her not to think so loudly, unsure if Riju knowing _too much_ was better than her knowing too little.

Riju shifted from studious to a shrug, and glanced at Buliara. “Why didn’t he just say something?”

“The little Voe is shy.” She replied with a saucy smirk. 

Sidon thought for a moment, trying to fight Link’s flush out of his mind, even as his heart yearned more. Something less awkward. He felt the dry rasp of sand and the smell of stone and heat rub against his mind, Link’s breath brushing his scales. 

“I-I am sure he would like to visit Gerudo town upon his return. Would it be possible to procure him a new set of silks? His last ones were unfortunately…”

Riju smirked and nodded, clearly well educated in all the workings of Voe relations and politics, as well as Link’s penchant for crossdressing and violent sex with a nine-foot shark man. “But Prince Sidon, it _has_ been a week--”

“He **_will_** return” Sidon cut in immediately. “Princess Zelda has been fighting for a century, and I know Link shall do the same if needs be must -- but he _will_ return. It is not in his nature to leave a quest unfulfilled.” 

Riju smartly kept her mouth shut, and Buliara did not tell him off for interrupting the Chief. 

“One set of silks then. It would be my pleasure, Prince. You look tired, I should like to make your acquaintance better when you are rested.”

“Yes, I look forward to it Lady Riju, I take my leave now.”

He closed the door quietly and crawled up the stairs to collapse into Link’s bed, trying to find the last tendril of his scent left behind on the pillows, and aching with it. 

  
  
  


*****

  
  
  


Sidon awoke. Something was amiss. 

Something in the air.

He breathed and it felt _sticky._ Around his Gills and in his brain, heady and pervasive. 

There was noise, the howl of the wind, hoofbeats, a worried, fading whinny from Epona, and the faint far off rumble of something that skulked _under_ the black weather and the dark _._ Reverberations from the depths of the earth, too soft for an earthquake, too concise to be natural. 

He threw himself out of the house, taking stock. Epona was gone, bust out from her stables and across the bridge. The night was split, a blood moon hanging above and the ash that lurked in the middle distance - it seemed to flicker, the Malice in the air not quite permanent, dissolving between wispy smoke and back into tinder. He followed her path, walking with a sense of growing dread and collapsing just after he’d crossed to a quake that made his teeth clack.

As if the foul air had awoken the beast, lights all over town flickered to life, as if Sidon’s presence had lit the candles as he passed. The rumble was _everywhere -_ below his feet, in his head, across his shoulders - it hissed as heads peered out doors and into the street in bleary confusion. He stared at the entrance to town and the red fog that seemed to roll across Hyrule in the west, toward the duelling peaks and Hyrule field, breaking up the blue of the night in violence. 

“The Calamity” The Gray-feathered Rito said, landing next to him. Teba, Sidon corrected distractedly, hearing others catch up to him. 

“What in Hylia’s name--” 

Another quake made the earth shudder, but Sidon had been expecting it this time, even as others toppled. It was followed by a roar and venomous pink light erupting across the underside of the clouds. 

“The final battle for Hyrule has begun.” Impa said, somewhere down at his right hand. 

Link was alive, but this looked apocalyptic. For them to keep their promises, Sidon and Hyrule had to still be there for Link to come back to. Sidon turned to his assembled comrades and frowned. He felt as though all the sand of the Gerudo desert was under his scales. 

“Precautions must be taken, if I may.” He looked at each of them. and received permission “Sir Teba, Kakariko and the Stables are too close to the field. Are you able to lead evacuees here? Fort Hateno is the best defensible position for all of us. Likewise, Lady Riju, Warrior Buliara, might you coordinate the watch and defense efforts? Yunobo, I am counting on you to help shore up and evacuate any nearby who are too infirm to stand and fight. Take them beyond the Lab and down to the coast until the danger has passed. Lady Impa, if you could please impart any knowledge you have on the Calamity to our team that may be useful for us, I believe you are the best person for command of this effort. I have faith in Link, but I know the Calamity to be malicious - it may hunt us down before Link and Zelda get the chance to slay it.”

“And what about you?” Impa’s tiny granddaughter asked softly. 

Sidon thought hard of any reason why he should not go, and only came up with reasons why he must. “The river is the fastest route to Hyrule field, and I am the most capable swimmer. We need information. The sky does not look safe but the water should serve as a disguise, and Ganon’s malice does not seem to like it very much. I should be the safest _and_ the fastest.”

Impa only nodded, and turned, her overlarge hat clanking against the onset of the ash. “You heard the Prince, wake everyone who is not already alert - we have work to do!” 

Sidon didn’t wait another moment, dashing towards the clutch of the river and diving into its murky depths, speeding along until his gills ached with the speed and pressure. Link’s scent itched in his senses, and he powered onward. 

  
  
  
  
  


Hyrule field was awash in fire, the Castle itself seeming to thrash and twist in the mirage of heat, and sat astride the great grass plain was a monster, the size of which Sidon had only ever dreamed of under the shade of Vah Ruta. A Boar, hulking, huge, and screeching into the night, such that the blood moon seemed to flare brighter as it stampeded. Sidon could scarcely see anything - the bank of the river and the reeds lit up and scorching. The water would boil under this hellscape, but Sidon still cast about, desperate for any other signs--

A flash of white-gold light there, an explosion there, perhaps the clop of hooves or the twinkle of a guardian’s cannon. 

He could hear whatever was left of Hyrule Castle Town creaking and collapsing under the blaze, trees lit up on the horizon like a bundle of matches, flame spat out the windows and parapets of Hyrule castle like a belching beast.

The great Calamity Boar stomped, a stonefort knocked clean in half by a tusk, its eyes looked maddening.

The trees on the other side of the river were catching fire. The Ash carrying the blaze across acres and Sidon watched in horror as animals ran, skin crackling. 

He dove again, ignoring the sting of the too-hot water and swam until his muscles burned and lungs wished for collapse. Ganon was still alive, and there was a chance ---

What felt like an eternity later, he broke for air in the reservoir of Zora’s Domain, clambering up onto Vah Ruta’s leg and falling onto its entryway heaving and panting. He dragged himself through the corridor to the large room, and wheezed.  
  
“Ssister! M-Mipha! ...uh...I need...your help! Hyrule...Hyrule is burning! Vah Ruta must...it must put out the fire!” 

No answer came. 

“Mipha! Please! I can’t save Link, and I can’t save Hyrule, but this much we can do! Please!”

The belly of Ruta echoed emptily. 

He collapsed exhausted and desperate against the dias that still glowed blue. It lit brighter against his heaving chest, and with a great stone breath, Ruta moved.

Sidon laughed wetly, seeing the swirl of weak ghostlights dance in the air.

“Sister, I’m so sorry - you will be able to rest soon. But please, now Link needs us.” 

She placed his hand, the cool of her invisible touch comforting against the crushing heat, and together, they drove on.   
  
  


******

  
  


Link wheezed, tumbling over, unfurling the paraglider and rising up over the flaming pit of the Castle town. The beast barrelled after him and reared as it hit the confines of the Town wall, smashing down yet another section. 

The heat and smog were so heavy he could barely breathe. Everything hurt. One shoulder wasn’t sitting right in it’s socket, a hand where all the fingers looked like raw steak. A deep cut underneath a shoulder blade stretching down along his side to the gouge of rib. It felt like his legs could just pop out of their sockets and he would tear like gossamer, chunks of him falling away as the inferno salvated at his heels. 

Everything was on fire, but the white light was just enough to see his destination over the angry glare. He landed in a crumple and snatched at it, the glowing bow’s handle slightly too small for him and rubbing against damaged fingers, but he took off again, billowing up into the air before a tusk crushed into the earth where he’d just been. 

In his delirious mind he could hear hoofbeats, Epona’s canter pattern. His heartbeat thudded against his temples. 

He dropped, taking aim and firing, the arrow leaving the bow in the arc of a shooting star and striking true. His fingers bled between previous damage and the sharp bowstring. 

The beast wailed and was stopped for only a moment, as Link landed and tried to gather his wits. The hoofbeats _were_ real. He spun on his heel, catching Epona’s neck and flinging himself up into the saddle. Thank the gods for his beautiful, brilliant horse. His hands were too ruined to cling onto the paraglider and then aim and shoot. The saddlebags clunked as they cantered, and Link saw a hundred rolling red apples kept ready for him. _Sidon._ He lowered the bow and took a bite of one, clutching onto Epona’s reins for dear life. The taste was sharp, but cool, and the few degrees difference made his brain flare back to life now that he could taste more than ash and sticky dehydration.

He took aim again, letting his hips absorb Epona’s gait, loosing an arrow into the Calamity’s shoulder. It thundered, the right side of its body folding strangely. 

_Come on, come_ **_on!_ ** _Just a little bit more!_ He forced his tired eyes wide and took aim again, something trumpeting off in the distance.  
  


*****

The fire ate ravenously, and Mipha’s whispers were urgent and calm, not really saying words but in her little twinkle, he heard instructions, signs, actions. She was barely there - holding on by a wisp of will and the call of Sidon’s hour of need, until he felt his hands stiffen in clutch at the controls and instinct kicked in, Ruta’s movement lurching, desperate and sloppy. The landscape sizzled under the jet from her trunk, steam blanketing the atmosphere and malicious ash cast about until it was littered, defeated in Ruta’s path. The Divine Beast stood in the river, and at Sidon’s command, it lifted it’s trunk aloft, the water level at its feet dropping as its jetstream fired into the air. Artificial rain swarming and quelling the rage of the fire. Hyrule field flushed with the cloud of water, and the angry pervasive red skulked back into the earth, quadrant after quadrant falling back to silky midnight blue, apart from the haze-flecked raging boar that stampeded across the plain. 

Sidon could scarcely see for the smog.  
  
Mipha’s hand slipped gently from his, and her bell-like voice fell oh-so-silent. Vah Ruta’s lights plunged, returning him to acrid, violent darkness, the great curve of her trunk falling silent as the water gushed from a Monsoon to a trickle. He pleaded with the console, thrashing to look for her in the ankle-deep water - a ghostlight, a sheikah lamp, the chime of bells - _anything -_

Sidon, at once, was singularly and categorically alone. 

He sobbed as he worked, flinging himself out onto the balcony, unable to remove himself from desperation, even for the sake of mourning. Ever searching Link out in the smog. 

_“--_ **_when_ ** _Ganon falls,”_ Link had signed, _“her purpose will be fulfilled.”_

The Calamity threatened, it’s rumble quivered up Sidon’s knees and out through his gills. Acrid and coppery. 

He shook, counting the seconds between it’s roars like an incoming lightningstrike, the nearer together they got, the more Sidon felt the pressure of the sky crush him. But if Mipha wasn’t _here,_ and the Calamity was -- hope runs out so fast--

 _Not your time yet - You_ **_promised_ ** _me - Link,_ **_you Promised --_ **

  
  
*****

  
  


In the throes of his dying efforts, Zelda smiled at him warmly, the dirt on her face and dress cakey. 

“I’ve been k-keeping watch... over you-- all this time…” She whispered, all her power used up and her body limp in his arms. “I’ve witnessed--ah- your struggles to return to us--” she shuddered and the sentence cracked around the malice choking her lungs, “--as well as your trials in b-battle.” Flames had scorched red flares into his vision, which turned the brightening blue sky above into a blistered purple mess. She could barely smile, but that was enough for him right now. 

“I always thought-- no, I always believed--” Epona let him limp against her, since he was too weak to lift either of their decrepit bodies onto the saddle. He tried to listen, but Zelda’s words fell through his mind like water through gossamer. “That you would find a way to d-defeat Ganon. I-I never lost faith in y-you over these many years.”

He stumbled forward, knowing a place that was safe and close by, trying to ignore the pounding of his pulse or his blood turning Zelda’s dress red. It didn’t hurt anymore. That was probably a bad sign. 

The stable swam headily into view, the ground was soaked, as if by some miraculous rainstorm, some of the Hands still shouldering weapons even against the confusion of the suddenly clear morning sky. His feet slipped across the ground - it had been fired like clay and now it was claggy with mud. He didn’t question it. 

“Link!” One farrier called, running towards him. She looked so much further away than she probably was. Link stood still and tried not to cough. 

Zelda was removed from his arms as more of them appeared. She looked at him, half lost to unconsciousness.

“Thank you Link...the Hero of Hyrule--” He wiped stray hair from her ashen face and nodded, nausea rattling his skull, and waved them onward. He pointed to the Princess and Epona, shovelling the reins into someone’s hands, he couldn’t see who. “May I ask...do you really remember me?” She whispered, her hand still clutching lamely in his tunic. 

Link loosened her fingers and nodded, kissing her hand. It made sense - didn’t matter in the end, whether or not he remembered. This moment was all he had been placed here for. Despite so much time in service to avoidance, it felt effortless to be at her side one final time. She was not quite all he envisioned from his snippets of memory, and yet she was more. If the blood in his brain was less viscous, perhaps he might have even seen the irony of finally understanding both himself and Princess Zelda to be fallible humans, not tools of some far flung Gods.

 _“I remember.”_ She smiled, and the stablehand turned.

Epona whinnied and refused to go, but he turned his back and marched on, knowing she was the best of horses and would do as he willed eventually. The bank was waiting. One more promise left to keep.

He was beyond help now, that much was obvious to him, but he pulled his cloak over the worst of it ushered the stablehands back across the bridge when a set of blurry hands tried to stop him. They asked him questions, but he just shooed them with woozy effort as he staggered. 

_No point. Save Zelda, not the dead man._

He saw the blurry outline of the sword, still beyond the right side of the river, and stumbled onwards, collapsing down next to it with relief, seeing the little mound where their seeds were buried. 

_I’m here, I came back as promised. Sidon, are you safe? Please be safe._

He felt the warm, sodden glacier of blood reach the space between his thighs with a painless smile.

_I can die where I met you, in the river._

The grass smelled sweet, the wind kissed his filthy brow, sunlight caressed his hair and the Sword stood, glinting at him in welcome. The world was oddly still for a spell, and he drank it down like nectar, hearing the music of it like a merry summer’s evening. He had been so afraid of it all this time, and at the end, all there was, was a profound, quiet peace, interrupted only by a few, silly stray thoughts.

‘ _We never did have that party, or dye that cow...’_

He laughed, a gurgle in it that should not have been there. 

_“Thank you.”_ He signed, somewhere up at the sky, _“For letting me see this day.”_

As he drifted, he saw Sidon - a figure untradable for all the breaths remaining to him, nor the promise of ceasing calamities forevermore. Of all that he was supposed to love, this one was indelible, etched into him in a way that would survive long after he’d lost his mind and his faculties. He knew without any doubt that should he be forced to forget again, that shade of red would be all he would need to see to remember. He smiled, his eyes clogged with mist. It was such a beautiful trauma to have, carried into the last splutter of life left in him.

_“I love you. Don’t cry.”_

The sword fell with him as he collapsed, and the river rolled by. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_“Always getting yourself hurt at every turn…”_ Her bell-like voice said, full of compassion and grace. Her little hand stroked Link’s hair for the final time, and she laid him down. They were there - five of them - fireflies in the shape of people, Proud Revali, Fierce Urbosa, Mighty Daruk, Gentle Mipha, Great King Rhoam - all smiling and free, drifting immaterial toward the exit that he should by all rights have left by - fracturing into a thousand tiny flickering sycamore seeds and hanging in the air like starfall. 

  
  


_“Thank you for this day. It’s time.”_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Blood whirled, thumping through weak eyelids, lit by green ghost-glimmer and blue and red, everything swimming into focus, and Link coughed weakly. 

The face above him floated, blurry and strange, wreathed in dawnlight and water droplets, fiercely set in shadowed red and silver. A close, _precious_ silhouette against the gentle stare of the sky. Eyes laced with panic and tears and liquid gold. The night breeze breathed lovingly over Link’s face as his lungs gurgled with blood, his body feeling floaty and immaterial.

The creature that leant over him did not bite, or move. He felt aloft. The puncture in his chest had stopped spitting ooze, and he could still hear a faint thrum of heartbeat. Link winced with the effort of staying awake, pain careening into him like a charging bull. Still, despite the hurt he drove his fingers to find their rightful place under Sidon’s face fin.

He was crying helplessly. Link could only squint through blurred tears and watch his silly Prince move, the full gaze of the sky stinging his eyes in place of its shadow. 

“You came back-- you’re _really_ still here--”

Link smiled and touched, trying to take in all he could. Sidon’s face was split with pride and agony, his breath racked with sobs. 

He cradled Link gently and wiped his face. He looked like shit, torn lips, mussed and muddied hair, bruised arms, blood stained _everything_ \- but Sidon had never seen anything as sublime amongst all the myriad gifts of the Gods. 

_“Sidon,”_ Link signed gratefully, exhaustedly. _“I’m home.”_

“Yes,” He said weakly, pressing Link’s shattered body against his with gentle fervency, “Welcome back, welcome back my love” 

  
  
  


*****

  
  
  


“What’s the flavour _supposed_ to be?” Purah huffed, snatching a few sprigs of herbs out of Paya’s hand and throwing them back on the table. “More butter and sugar! You can’t go wrong. It’s a party after all. Strong flavours are best.”

“But it’s just supposed to be a small carrot cake--” She shook, “They’ll be back soon, please don't--” Purah ignored her and threw something that looked suspiciously like radish into her mixture. 

Symin merely rolled his eyes and set about picking out each chunk individually as Purah trotted off and went to bother someone else. The pots simmered in the cooking area, a fire underneath each that had been burning since the early morning. The tables were laid out down the length of the Hateno high-street, and every utensil, plate, bowl, platter, shield and reasonably sized plate armour lined each side in readiness for more guests than they were ever prepared to host. The seats and benches were haphazard, some just a stack of books tied in linen, or tree stumps sheared at a rough and jaunty angle. Dozens of the elderly or infirm were already seated, sharing drinks and stories across their varied cultures.

Dento and Leop traded hunting stories and the Hateno teens tried to talk with Riju, who was somewhere between wanting to join in and maintaining proper poise. Teba and his family taught some of the younglings how to use a few small bows, and they fired on Yunobo who sat happily in his armoured ball, and congratulated them when they landed a hit. Bazz and some of the Zora made fish and meat skewers, fussing over which fruit the Rito would like, or bemused by the Goron preference for rocks. Zelda perched quietly at the head of the table, regarding all of the eddies of people, circling and chattering, with a calm sort of fondness, as though she had been waiting to see such a day since the beginning of time. Impa sat with her, and every now and then, they would exchange knowing glances and breathe in a peaceful sigh of relief. 

“You know, it still feels the same.” 

“Coming home always does.” Impa agreed. 

The sounds of the village strummed by, summer perched on the edge of autumn as the north wind blew gently over the Hateno hills, whistling over the chimney stacks and down into the river’s embrace. All of them were walking stories, every footstep on a well-worn track and a giggle on split lips. 

The breeze carried their voices away until it was hazy, a shimmer in the air downriver.

It settled around Link and Sidon like a shelter, their reflections calm and cuddled on the surface of it’s flow. One arm under Link’s shoulder and looped around until it was back over Sidon’s heart, head resting atop head and back leant against scale. Hyrule was somewhere beyond the little outcrop, but for now, Link hibernated, warm and painless and unhurried. They had come back from Faron, a few days of Link resting in the Spring of Courage to help the gouge in his chest heal quickly. It was nothing more than a dull ache, but Sidon had treated him like precious glass, urging him to show patience with his healing process. Link sort of loved it, the languid feel of time. He turned the pumpkin between his fingers, watching the way the starlight played through the thin skin of the vegetable, and the angle of the afternoon made the silver filigree twinkle. 

Pieces of his memory returned, falling into clarity, like turning a gemstone and seeing a new facet illuminated. Each one uncovered and exhumed, told to Sidon and absorbed with endless gorgeous patience. People he didn’t have names for yet, puzzle pieces that seemed to flutter away and reappear for him to guess as the next. He was going to write it all down. Make a book. No more forgetting.  
  
The bit he looked forward to writing the most was the story of the red-river ghost. He leant into Sidon’s chest and sighed, feeling his beloved’s lips stroke along the curve of his ear. 

Eventually, the music wafted down from Hateno to reach them, and they stood, Sidon supporting Link as he hobbled, his body still bruised but beautifully unbroken. They danced, in a haphazard, slow and giddy circle, Sidon holding both their weight through some silly little spins, and Link flowing on, a serene smile permeating his bones. They were careless of the eyes that stared as Sidon carried him into town, Epona trotting alongside them, or the future that awaited - a stolen moment of peace hanging in the wild. 

Through turns of dancing, curled along the curve of his waist. Through the raucous nights and the parties, into the lonesome dawn, along the river and up where the worries are washed away with the rain. He imagined what he would write, if he could fashion a letter to Sidon and leave it somewhere in their history by that silver marker along the river of life they both swam down. When he leaves with Zelda on thier new quests and adventures. New beasts to conquer and realms to explore. They never needed many words, so he thinks it would be simple. _Just say anything, maybe it’ll be heard._

  
  
  
  


_Dearest Red River Ghost,_

_Hold on to me. Let the river run where it may._

_P.S. Half of me never leaves you, but the rest of me will be home soon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is over. I've enjoyed it so much, thank you all. I feel like I'm going into fic hibernation now. I'm going to miss this. Some good news though, I have another fic already started - I've even had a lovely person (you know who you are,) whose offered to beta-read for me ;3; 
> 
> Thank you all, for all the lovely messages, kudos and comments, they've meant the world to me. 
> 
> I've made a little discord server if anyone wants to share thier own work / suggest fanfiction, art, or just generally have a chat and say hi. I'll also probably put some of my own work or updates on bits that I'll be doing. It doesn't have to be LoZ, There's just a hell of a lot of amazing cool people who've been very good to me over the course of this fic and I'm going to miss you all. 
> 
> Discord Link: https://discord.gg/uGWjH4Uc
> 
> Sloppy love<333


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